When Stars Fall
by 1bitHeart
Summary: it is regarded as a miracle, a chance to have your wish granted— but isn't it strange, to place your hopes and expectations onto something that's dying? Hoshi tries, really, but they'd appreciate it a lot if everyone wasn't so set on becoming friends with them. It was kind of, um, really terrifying. SI/OC. Slight AU. MC uses they/them. Hiatus because of school...sorry...!
1. (Re)Birth

**Summary:** _When stars fall, it is regarded as a miracle, a chance to have your wish granted— but isn't it strange, to place your hopes and expectations onto something that's dying? Hoshi tries, really, but they'd appreciate it a lot if everyone wasn't so set on becoming friends with them. It was kind of, um, really terrifying. SI/OC. MC uses they/them._

 **Warnings:** _Eventual character/OC, death mention, character death, unreliable narrator, swearing, violence, child neglect/abuse, suicide mention, etc._

* * *

 _ **Rebirth**_

 _ **re·in·car·na·tion**_ _/_ _ˌ_ _rēənkär_ _ˈ_ _nāSH(ə)n/_

 _noun—_

 _the rebirth of a soul in a new body_

 _a new incarnation or embodiment, as of a person_

* * *

"You never even look at me anymore!"

Something at the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she looked up. The meteor shower was starting. A clear sky, with no clouds in sight, and she had a full view of the falling stars.

It was beautiful.

"Why aren't you saying anything? …Why are you still smiling?"

A push. She stumbled from the force, back hitting the railing. It creaked precariously and she was forced to look away from the sky. A frown tugged at her lips, but she smothered it and pressed her mouth into a neutral line. Stepping away from the banister, she sighed.

She should have watched this alone.

She blinked and refocused on her companion's face. Anger and annoyance from being ignored. Well, now that her attention wasn't on the meteor shower anymore (sadly)—

"What were you saying?" She gives a wan smile, just to be polite. She was playing dumb, of course. She had a bad habit of tuning people out and was using it to her advantage. No one knew that she had heard the words spoken aloud clearly, and she wasn't planning on enlightening anyone anytime soon.

Her companion growled.

"You're so fake. You always pretend like you're laughing along with us, but I _know_! I've never seen you smile genuinely! Are you even human? It's like you have no emotions, you creep!"

Her stare was blank and unsettling. Her companion's stance shifted from hesitant and defensive to aggressive and tense. There was a glimmer she caught when she made eye contact. She's seen it before. It was a sign that her companion was going to do something that would have bad consequences. In other words, something utterly stupid.

She didn't like it.

A feeling of foreboding bloomed in her chest. She ignored it, as always.

She caught movement, but it was too late. Her companion seemed to be acting impulsively. Another push.

This time, the fence snapped.

It takes only a second to process the danger—

(Her first thought is, _oh._

Then comes, _the building is ten stories high._

Followed by, _I won't make it._

 _I won't survive._

 _I'm_

 _Going_

 _To_

 ** _Die._**

 _…_

 _Oh_.)

—but it is a second too long. She's falling backwards, along with the railing, and she knew that she wasn't going to be able to help herself. Eyes wide, her companion reflexively took a step back. Her arm stretched out, but she knew it was futile. Out of reach.

It was too late.

She made eye contact and spoke her last words, delivered with bitter grin.

"You're not even worthy of fake smiles, you murderer."

And then she was plummeting downdown _down_. The sky spread above her, and in that moment, the meteors seemed to fall along with her. She stared up at the rest of the stars, twinkling safely in the sky. Ah. She wished she could be a star, too.

Down and down and down, faster and harsher.

The shock-induced calm washed away and she finally understood the levity of her situation. She was falling, falling, falling, and she didn't want to die _(was this the end?)_ not like this never like this _(whywhywhy)_ sorry mom looks like she really would be useless forever (no no NO NO NONON _ONONO_ ).

She was fourteen, she hadn't _done_ anything yet— she was scared, petrified; what came after death? Would it hurt? What would _happen_ to her?

A stupid question— she'd _end_.

Her life was crumbling apart in front of her eyes, but there was nothing to break its fall, no one to piece it back together again. _(Please, someone, anyone, she was scared, she didn't want this, she didn't want it to end—)_

She inhaled. Her panicked mind went blank. It didn't comprehend anything, couldn't understand, refused to acknowledge what was coming next. She let her breath out in one long exhale. Squeezing her eyes shut, she wondered if when she opened them again, everything would only turn out to be a nightmare.

But for all that she daydreamed, she was also a realist. So she opened her eyes once again and absorbed the world around her for one last time.

It would be the last view she'd ever see, after all.

The city haze had washed away with the recent rain, so the stars were brighter than she had ever remembered them before. It was too bad she couldn't stay to see the rest of the meteor shower.

Ah, that was right.

Shooting stars granted wishes, didn't they?

(She wanted to _live_.)

The ground reached up to meet her after what seemed like an eternity. This was it. She closed her eyes, and missed another shooting star, one that was brighter than all of the others.

(Ah…

What a waste.

If she had known she would die so soon, she would've lived her life to the fullest.

She should've lived

with the **will of the dying**.)

The meteor winked out, and her life did the same.

* * *

A cloaked figure stood in the dappled sunlight, staring up at the tree that loomed before them. It was a giant, ancient tree, which reached into the heavens and spread its branches as far as the eye could see. Its roots were so massive that they broke through the earth even miles away from it, and its trunk was so huge a village could be built inside the wood and there would still be room for more. It was a tree so important and powerful that no one dared to claim it.

And it was dying.

Death flicked its hood off as it stared thoughtfully up at the rays of sunlight that made it through the gaps in the leaves. The tree was dying, but Death didn't particularly _want_ the tree. It was too big and too important; so many gods and creatures would bitch about it. In fact, they were _already_ complaining. "The tree is sickly", they'd say with an annoyingly worried face, then they'd turn to Death with a sneer and say, "Death, keep your wretched claws away from it!" Ugh. It wasn't even _Death's_ fault the tree was dying— if the huge chunk of wood was so important, why didn't the beings that were actually involved with it _do something_ about it?

Death groaned and rubbed a hand over its face. This damn tree…was such a pain in the ass. It had better be grateful for this. With a dramatic whirl of its cloak, Death slipped out of that world and returned to a separate plane— Death's realm.

Universes were like bubbles— so that's what they appeared to be in this place. They floated about, drifting aimlessly until they popped on their own. Sometimes, a bubble would meet and collide with another bubble, and then either both pop or they somehow miraculously combine into a bigger bubble. Universes were really very delicate. _So_ easy to shatter, but that wasn't Death's goal right now. What Death wanted was _inside_ of those bubbles. Tiny little lights, some brighter than others. They filled each bubble to the brim, and the amount of lights determined the size of the bubble. It was a strange thing, how universes seemed to revolve around one thing.

Human souls.

An unlimited, refillable resource. There were countless universes, as far as the eye could see, and popping one would give Death millions, even _billions_ of souls. Feeding them to the tree regularly would bring it back from illness, for sure.

The problem was, Death couldn't just pop a universe and collect the souls. If Death destroyed a universe, the souls inside would be destroyed too. They had to leave by themselves. Many souls died each day; it wouldn't be hard to sweep them all up and feed them to the tree— except Death needed those souls for filling up new universes. So it was either giving up the existing souls, or somehow causing the rate of deaths to increase in each universe.

Easy. It wasn't like Death had never tried to increase the death rate of a universe, after all.

Souls were like tiny little lights, see, and the intensity of each light _did_ mean something. The brighter a soul was, the more potential it had when alive. Potential for _what_ , well, it varied from each to each— one could become a scientist that saves the world from an apocalypse while the other could be the charismatic leader that leads the whole world into war. The point was, a bright soul was devastatingly influential. And, you see, souls touched by death attracted death. Even when reincarnated, Death's mark would be engraved into their being permanently, so people around them would die— whether by murder or by accident, it didn't matter.

Combine those two together…

Ah, it seems you understand now. Well then, Death needed to be off. It had a few blindingly bright souls to find, and a few universes to chuck them in.

* * *

Somewhere, in a certain universe, a newly born child wailed for the very first time, and promptly burst into cerulean flames.

* * *

 **Hello~! This is the edit! (2/8/17)**

 **Hoshi's goroawase (ship #) is 04! So if there's shippy stuff, they'll be up in the warnings! (ex: Tsuna X Hoshi is 2704, Hoshi X Enma is 0400)**

 **I was super unsatisfied with Death, so I redid the whole scene. Yeah. By the way, this fic is in 10 communities?! Thank you, haha!**

 **Leave a review to tell me what you think?**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	2. Dark Nebula

**Warnings:** _Attempted murder._

* * *

 ** _Dark Nebula_**

 **dark neb _·u·la_** _/därk/ /_ _ˈ_ _nebyələ/_

 _noun—_

 _a nonluminous nebula of dust and gas that is observable because it obscures light from other sources_

 _a cloud of interstellar gas and dust that absorbs and thus obscures the light from stars behind it, appearing as a dark patch in front of a bright nebula or in an otherwise bright area of sky_

* * *

Whose fault was it?

The question was the only thing Altair could hear over the roaring blood in her ears. She felt numb.

Whose fault was it?

It repeated over and over, in tandem to the _thudthudthudthud_ of her heartbeat and her youngest ( _only_ ) sister's shaking sobs.

Whose fault was it?

Was it her fault? She was the oldest sibling, the one responsible for the others. She should've seen it coming, seen that this would happen, seen that this was doomed to fail from the start. She should have put her foot down and said _no_ from the very moment her ( _dead_ ) sister walked in with _that man_ trotting behind her heels. She should have prevented them from falling in love, from marrying, should have kept Matar away from him, she should've done something— _anything_ — but she hadn't and now Matar was

 _dead_

and was this her fault _her fault_ was this because of her _she should have stopped it_ this was all her fault _her fault_ her fault her fauLT—

It was her fault Matar was deaddead _dead_ and now their family of four was down to three—

…No.

There was still something else, wasn't there? Something, something…what was it again? Hmmm, that's right. Altair's too-wide eyes settled upon the bundle cradled in Matar's too-still hands, and purple slowly crept along the edges of her vision.

That thing. _That thing_ was the reason Matar had gotten weaker and weaker. It was the reason Matar had insisted on marriage. It was the reason she was left defenseless when when she should have been strong. That thing had half of _his_ genes. He was gone now, Altair made sure of it, but that thing still remained. That thing had taken Matar's life and replaced her, leaving Altair with only bits and pieces of her beloved sister.

They were still a family of four, but not for much longer.

The baby (abomination) _wailed_

and Altair

saw

 _red_.

* * *

Saiph noticed it first.

It was the spike of bloodlust that gave it away, followed by many things— the way her sister's eyes flashed purple, the way her fingers crept towards the spot on her waist Saiph knew she hid a knife, the way her attention was trained on the baby so intensely it was unsettling— it was all there, and the nurses were too busy with her sister's body and the baby to see the signs. Saiph noticed it first, and so although she was usually slower than Altair, she was able to react in time to stop her.

 _CLANG—!_

"What are you doing?!" Saiph shrieked. The nurses tittered and cried out in confusion, but she disregarded them. She could feel her arms trembling as she withstood the force of her sister's swing. The metal of the low-grade switchblade she clutched rattled ominously, and Saiph disengaged and leapt back with a click of her tongue. Her shins hit the edge of the bed. Saiph swore in her mind— why was this room so fucking _small_ — but kept her eyes on the threat.

Because that's what her sister was: a threat. A threat to the new member of the Akashic family and to the culmination of Matar's nine months of joy. What did she think she was _doing_?

"Get out of my way, Saiph," Altair said, but her voice was distant, as if her words were coming out unconsciously. Saiph looked in her last sister's eyes and felt a chill run up her spine. Was this really her older sister? Her hands shook, but Saiph tightened her grip on the switchblade and let her left hand brush against the pistol strapped to her left leg. She didn't want the child to die. She _couldn't_ let him die. Not when the last word out of her sister's mouth was his name.

 _Hoshi_.

Saiph inhaled, feeling a resolve in her heart flickering to life. Her Flames eagerly responded to the newfound source of power, and she met the glowing purple gaze of her sister with her own indigo one.

 _You can't have him_.

Altair leapt forward with a snarl.

* * *

Selena stared breathlessly down at the bundle she rocked in her arms. Hoshi, Lady Matar's first and only child, was a tiny, pink, fragile thing that wailed and sobbed but did not cry.

He was also on fire.

Now, this was the point where she was supposed to joke that it was a Dying Will Flame and not an actual flame, but the thing was, she didn't know if it actually _was_ a Dying Will Flame. The Flames of the Sky came in red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, and indigo. Hoshi was burning a deep, oceanic blue; the color was too different from the sky blue Rain Flames puffed with.

Selena didn't know what to do. Sure, she was a middle-aged woman, an _adult_ , but an important baby with an unidentified Flame was cradled in her arms and Lady Saiph and Lady Altair were fighting in the room Lady Matar's _dead body_ was still in and the nurses were rushing around panicking over how to get Lady Matar's body out of there before it somehow gets damaged and _why was everyone was acting like a bunch of irresponsible children!_

 _"_ _ENOUGH!"_

The booming voice startled everyone into silence, including the fight between the two women. Aside from her heavy breathing and Hoshi's tiny cries, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. After a belated moment, Selena realized the shout had come from her.

Well then. Best to take control of the situation before she lost the opportunity.

"This behavior is disgraceful! Honestly, we are all professionals here! You!" Selena whirled around to glare at Altair, ignoring the crazed gleam still present in her faintly glowing eyes. Tension was slowly seeping out of her frame, Selena noted with approval. Maybe she'd come to her senses yet. "You are fighting in a room with _Lady Matar's body_! Have you no respect?! You'll have time to mourn later— take care of the living _now_!"

Against her better judgement, Selena shoved Hoshi (when had his Flames disappeared?) into Lady Altair's arms. Both Saiph and Altair stiffened— Altair fumbled with the correct way to support a baby's head and Saiph jolted forward, hand outstretched. Selena turned away, directing her fury at the petrified nurses.

"Hurry up! Go! What are you waiting for? The Lady's body isn't going to move herself!"

Spurred into action, hushed whispers and mutterings filled the air. Selena busied herself with overseeing the nurses, snapping at them whenever they stuttered or hesitated. Gods above, she could _feel_ gray hairs starting to form. Sighing heavily, Selena pinched the bridge of her nose, closed her eyes, and resolved to forget the Flames she'd seen Hoshi burn with. It would only add to her problems— she may be the head maid, but she wasn't going to pry too deeply into the Akashics' business. Selena didn't particularly have a death wish, and pure curiosity wasn't enough motivation for her to do something quite as reckless as that.

The door slammed shut, and Selena opened her weary eyes to find Saiph cradling Hoshi, glaring venomously at the door with something like tears in her eyes. Altair was nowhere to be seen— she was the one that left, then.

It seemed Lady Altair still had her reservations after all. Selena gazed at Hoshi with pitying eyes— his childhood would not be a happy one.

* * *

 **Edited 3/14/17.**

 **I'm really sorry these edits are taking so long. It's frustrating how I don't have much time to work on this...I'll try my best to do more! It's probably because I draw a lot more than I write, ngl. My art tumblr is onebitart, so if you want to see what's been taking up so much of my time, then you can go check it out.**

 **I won't abandon this story. Tbh I've kind of lost interest in KHR— I love it, of course, but with no new content and not a lot of feedback there isn't a burning motivation to work as fast as I can. I love Hoshi and this story, though, so even if it'll take a long time I'll try to see this to the end.**

 **Thank you for reading! Please let me know if there are any typos!**


	3. Protostar: The Fall

**Warnings:** _Casual death mention._

* * *

 **protostar** _/_ _ˈ_ _prōtə_ _ˌ_ _stär/_

 _noun—_

 _a contracting mass of gas that represents an early stage in the formation of a star, before nucleosynthesis has begun._

 _an early stage in the evolution of a star, after the beginning of the collapse of the gas cloud from which it is formed, but before sufficient contraction has occurred to permit initiation of nuclear reactions at its core._

 _a cloud of interstellar gas and dust that gradually collapses, forming a hot dense core, and evolves into a star once nuclear fusion can occur in the core._

* * *

Hoshi liked lots of things.

He liked the flavor of vanilla, cute dresses, and new books. He liked the stars, drawing, and the color purple. He liked rain because when it was raining everyone had to stay inside just like him. He liked his _zietta_ , Saiph, because she was the only one who took him outside to do things civilian kids do. He liked the head maid, Selena, because she snuck him yummy things to eat after dinner sometimes. He liked his _zia_ , Altair, because she was cool and strong and everyone treated her with respect. Hoshi liked lots and lots of things.

Studying was not one of those things.

It was boring and tiring. All Hoshi did was stare at the textbook in front of him while the teacher talked on and on. It wouldn't be that bad if Hoshi was actually learning, but the lesson was always so easy it was like Hoshi already knew everything. Not to mention, the teacher's voice was so monotone Hoshi accidentally tuned him out every time he spoke. He was mean, too! When he noticed Hoshi was daydreaming, he always started yelling and insulting him. Was this really how a teacher was supposed to act? Hoshi felt like this tutor was a waste of money.

Hoshi hated studying. A lot!

(It reminded him of late nights spent staring at textbooks until the words began to swim around and the clock read 3:46 a.m., of holding back tears because he got _another_ B on his test and at this rate his grade would never raise back to an A and _mom is gonna be so mad_ , of the unpleasant burning _frustration_ at his teacher because teachers were _supposed to teach_ and _all this man did was shout at them—_ but that was impossible, because Hoshi never went to school before.)

So that's why he's ditching class!

Hoshi huffed proudly to himself, eyes sparkling. He never really thought about ditching before, but the idea came suddenly to him as he was falling asleep from the lecture. Adults were so stupid! All Hoshi had to do was ask to go to the restroom, and now he was free! Even if he took really long, they'd only think Hoshi forgot how to wipe his butt or something, so they wouldn't come to check on him until it's too late! That meant Hoshi could go do _whatever_ he wanted right now! All he had to do was stay out of sight, because most of the servants and employees knew he was supposed to be with the tutor.

So Hoshi was going to the library. There were tons of books Hoshi could read, and the librarian was always gone (maybe she died and they still haven't replaced her yet?) so it was safe to be in.

The library…

Hoshi stood in the middle of the hallway, blinking. Where was the library again? The left corridor and right corridor looked exactly the same…although the paintings on the walls weren't. Oh, right! Hoshi approached one and stood on his tiptoes to get a better view. Wasn't there something about the paintings having directions hidden in them? Let's see…the deer facing left meant the dining hall was down that direction, and the swan facing right was… _nonno_ 's office, right? But which one was the library…?

Something clattered down the hall. A maid, maybe? With a jolt, Hoshi realized he was in plain sight, and hurried off in the opposite direction. Whatever! He'd figure it out on the way, and get to the library eventually!

.㇩5.

Hoshi disliked a lot of things.

He didn't like the color of his hair, temperatures above 100°F, and cockroaches. He didn't like studying, of course. He hated vegetables, but bitter melon was the worst. He didn't like how he never really had a chance to play like the civilian kids did, and he didn't like how people called him a genius and treated him like an adult. He disliked how _zia_ ignored him whenever she could. He disliked how _zietta_ only visited once every few months, and how she was planning on stationing herself in Japan permanently. Her next visit was soon, but it'd be the last one for a long while.

Hoshi added "being lost" onto the list.

 _Okay_ , so _maybe_ he couldn't figure it out on the way. Maybe he just wandered around trying to stay out of sight until he realized he didn't know where he was. Maybe he's just a _tiny bit_ scared about never finding his way back to the parts of the mansion he knew. But only maybe!

The point was that Hoshi was lost. He didn't know how he was going to get back in time for lunch…he didn't know if he could get back _at all_. Nobody was around, which was…strange. Usually, there was always a servant puttering around the corner doing _something_ , but the hallways here were empty. Something about this was odd. The reason why so many employees dawdled around was because they were trained in combat, so they served as security guards as well. For no one to be here meant this area wasn't secured, and…well, that meant Hoshi _really_ had to get back.

He glanced around, clutching his hands to his chest. The place he was in was so vastly different from the parts of the mansion he knew that it was eerie. Instead of a golden yellow, the walls were plastered with a sickly white, and the carpet beneath him was a dark blue instead of the deep red that was good for hiding stains. There were no windows, only the confining walls of the hallways and the old, flickering lights above him.

This place was silent. _Too_ silent. If Hoshi couldn't hear his own breathing, he'd have thought he went deaf. What was this, a shitty horror game? (Not that he'd know, because he'd never played one before…right?)

…He was scared.

Forcing his legs to take a few more steps, Hoshi paused to stare at the two paths he could choose. The left hall and right hall looked exactly the same— narrow and restricting. Hoshi bit his lip and curled his fists into his shirt. Selena would get angry that he stretched it, but Hoshi would rather see her get angry than never see her again. He had to get out of here. Right or left? If…if a monster came running from behind him, Hoshi would have no way of telling where to run other than his intuition—

…Wait, monsters weren't real. Hoshi took a deep breath and let it go slowly, feeling his racing heart slow down. Reassured, he slowly uncurled his hands, one finger at a time.

Monsters weren't real. They only existed in fairytales.

 _Breathe in, breathe out_.

Hoshi shouldn't be scared. He was four! He was a big kid now!

 _Inhale, exhale_.

He was going to be an assassin, and assassins didn't get scared of monsters!

 _Breathe in, brea_ —

* * *

 _Thunk_.

 _iT's mE!_

* * *

Hoshi didn't freeze.

He didn't even scream, or shout, or yell. Adrenaline shot through his veins— his breath stuttered and he panicked and _bolted_ , not even bothering to whirl around.

He was scared. What was that? _What had been behind him_? Hoshi had been alone. He had been _alone_ ; the hallways were _completely empty_ , so _who had been behind him?!_ Was it still behind him, even now? He couldn't tell. He couldn't hear anything besides the loud _thumpthumpthump_ of his heartbeat, couldn't see anything because he was tearing up, and that was bad because _zia_ told him only weaklings cried and Hoshi couldn't be weak if he wanted to escape. But escape _how_? Where was he supposed to go?!

 _Left!_ Something screamed at him, and Hoshi figured it was his survival instincts or something. He swerved to the left and skidded around the corner, running even as he stumbled a little. _Left again! Right!_

There was a set of double doors in front of him. It was old, apparently, because it groaned when Hoshi slammed into one of them and caused the rusty chains over them to crumble. He scrambled inside and pushed the door shut— just as something collided with it on the other side. Hoshi's heartbeat picked up. There really _had_ been something chasing him, and the flimsy old door between them wouldn't keep it out.

 _Look around you._

Hoshi cast his gaze around, wiping his tears away with a shaky breath. His eyes settled upon the only thing in the room— a white pedestal, with a black box on top of it. He pushed himself to his feet and lunged for it, tipping the pedestal over and making dust fly everywhere. It fell onto the carpet with a loud noise, but did not shatter, so Hoshi payed it no mind as he fumbled with the lid of the box.

Just as he opened it, the door smacked open with a deafening crack. Hoshi shrieked as tears fell from his eyes, and stared, wide-eyed, at the monster that had been chasing him. And it really _was_ a monster— a black, writhing mass with thousands and thousands of eyes that just _stared_ at him, _through_ him, _oh god oh god please no monsters aren't real aren'trealaren'trealrealREAL—_

 _The box!_

Hoshi cried out and ducked as the _thing_ shot over him, slamming into the wall and cracking the paint over it. His hands flailed about until his palm touched something cool and smooth, but then it _wasn't_ cool anymore because suddenly it was burning hot and it _hurt_ but Hoshi had to hold onto it because, because—

—because now he could _see_ , and the monster wasn't a monster at all. It wasn't _anything_. Nothing was there. The wall wasn't cracked, and the door was closed, just as he had left it.

Hoshi's head spun. He whimpered, quietly, and gripped the thing in his hand so tightly it sliced into his palm. But even after three heartbeats, six, nine, nothing happened. It was like…Hoshi had dreamed the whole thing. Like nothing had happened at all.

Hoshi burst into tears.

.㇩5.

After his tears ran dry, Hoshi wiped his eyes once again and sniffed. He felt a bit better, but also a bit worse at the same time. He hoped _zia_ didn't find out that he had cried.

Shakily getting up, Hoshi unclenched his hand. It was painful, but Hoshi remained silent as he finally got a look at the thing that had cut his hand up. It was…a hairclip. A black hairclip, shaped like a star and with edges so sharp Hoshi could probably use it as a weapon. It was big, too; it was bigger than his palm. The Akashic emblem, a single shooting star, was carved onto its back. For some reason. Why would a clip be so important it needed to be marked with the emblem? The only times Hoshi had seen the Akashic mark was when _nonno_ stamped business papers with it. It was basically never used…

There was something unsettling about it, too. Although the clip felt hot before, it was back to being cool to the touch, and Hoshi didn't have any burns on his hand. (…Like nothing had happened at all.) He was sure it had burned, though. It had _hurt_ , and that's how you knew you weren't dreaming.

No matter how he looked at it, it was just a regular hairclip, but somehow, it…felt _alive_. There was a presence to it, one that made his hand tingle strangely. Or maybe that was just the cuts beginning to hurt.

Hoshi…didn't really know what to do anymore. He was tired. He'd rather listen to his teacher talk about volume and surface area than this. He wanted to go back to his room and go to sleep and pretend nothing ever happened, but…

…He didn't know how to get back.

Hoshi felt like crying, but he already cried a lot so he just sniffled a bit and stood up. He held onto the clip, not willing to let go of it just yet. It made him feel safer, like someone was with him. When Hoshi got back, it would probably be taken away from him because assassins weren't supposed to have attachments to anything except the Akashics itself, but for now he let himself clutch onto it like it was a poor substitute for a stuffed animal.

Gathering his courage, Hoshi finally got a proper look at the room he shut himself into.

The walls and the ceiling depicted a night sky filled with shooting stars, which were painted lovingly and with lots of detail. Hoshi, already feeling lightheaded, suddenly became very dizzy. His vision wavered and filled with static, but the deep blue carpet beneath his feet grounded him as he walked towards the pedestal he knocked over. Strangely, there wasn't anything else in the room. Just the carpet, the walls, the pedestal, the box that had been on the pedestal, and Hoshi.

At least there were windows.

When Hoshi failed to lift the pedestal back up, he gave up and headed for the windows. He should still be on the second floor, so he could probably just climb down and find his way back from the outside. Brightening a little, but still a bit subdued, Hoshi walked to the windows and drew back the curtains. The action caused a plume of dust to rise, and Hoshi coughed as quietly as possible, not wanting to irritate his headache. For some reason, the windows were already open.

 _Close them_ , something whispered to him. The clip pulsed, warm in his hands. But the fresh air made him feel a lot better, and Hoshi's best solution was to go through the windows, so there really was no reason to. He brushed the urge to close the windows off, feeling a niggling worry at the back of his mind.

Hoshi leaned over the windowsill, gauging the distance from his position to the ground. The grass at the bottom seemed to waver and shift strangely. Hoshi squinted, feeling unsettled when it didn't disappear. _Close the windows!_ The clip was warm. Really warm. But then a calm feeling washed over him— _Don't worry about it_ , it seemed to tell him, so Hoshi brushed it off, deciding it was probably his vision acting weird because he was high up. Hoshi pinned the clip to his hair to free both of his hands and tentatively climbed onto the ledge. He let a leg dangle over the other side as he pondered over where to get a foothold.

Just then, a wave of nausea swept over him, and Hoshi's grip on the windowsill faltered. He tipped over to the side, and realized with a jolt that he was going to fall ( _not again, not again, not again_ ), but for some reason his fingers weren't working and his legs felt weak and as he finally tumbled over the edge, he looked at that strange patch of grass and oh, _oh_ — that patch of grass had been wobbly because _someone was standing there, with hands outstretched to catch him—_

Hoshi fell into darkness, but his last thought was, strangely, _at least I won't die from the fall again._

* * *

 **Edited 4/16/17.**

 **This chapter was...basically a rewrite. Sorry LMFAO. I said I'd only edit, not rewrite, but this chapter really needed to be redone. The problem with the old one was that Hoshi slashed the man's femoral artery, and he died from bleeding out, but for some reason I didn't consider that he could still fight back even as he was bleeding out? And Altair came rushing in to save Hoshi, but she still avoided them after that. What kind of weird thing was going trough my head when I wrote that? Also, my explanation for how the hitman got in was wildly awful. So I changed the whole situation. Instead of a hitman, Hoshi has now been knocked unconscious, and, as you probably already guessed, taken away.**

 **Thank you for being so patient! This chapter was really hard to write, but I think the next few ones will come a lot easier. If you catch any mistakes, please leave a review and tell me!**


	4. T-Tauri Phase: Shooting Star

_**T-Tauri Phase**_

 **t-tauri**

 _noun—_

 _the prototype for a class of very young stars, still in the process of gravitational contraction._

* * *

There was a Before, an After, and a Now.

Before was this: A highschool life. A lazy girl that liked to daydream and had the ability to ignore others completely and wholly. An academically gifted girl whose biggest fear was her future. A girl that didn't want to grow up. A girl that genuinely wished she would be dead before graduation just so she wouldn't have to face the "real world" adults liked to complain about. A girl that wanted to be dead but didn't want to die— if that made any sense. A girl that would rather serve than lead in a world that coveted leaders. A girl that was afraid of pain and the disappointment of others. A coward. (A child.)

After was this: Being raised as an assassin. A determined boy that worked on anything he was given without complaint. A genius little boy whose biggest desire was his aunt's smile directed at him. A boy that wanted recognition. A boy that wistfully dreamed of a loving, caring family like the ones he always read in the storybooks. A boy that wanted love and a family— both of which he'd never gotten. A boy that thought talks of killing and blood was ordinary because he'd grown up in an environment where it was. A boy that hadn't gotten the chance to truly experience the "real world" before an attempt on his life was taken. A prodigy. (A child.)

Now was this: Hoshi. A child with a perpetually dreamy, faraway look that hid the sharp intelligence their eyes contained. A child with the body of a boy but the memories of girl. A child who decided that spending time worrying about which one they were was a waste of time. A child that didn't need to be afraid of their future because it was already decided for them. (Once a killer, always a killer.) A child that wouldn't have to lead because they would receive orders. (Who to kill? How to do it?) A child that received a second chance to live, and by the gods they didn't believe in, they would. As a child, as an assassin— as _Hoshi_.

.㇩5.

The first thing Hoshi did after that was go to the bathroom. They felt lighthearted and refreshed, but that didn't change the sour taste in their mouth.

They stepped onto the stool in front of the sink, looked into the mirror, and almost fell back off in shock.

Their eyes were blue. A deep, dark blue, the kind that could drown you if you stared too long. An unnatural blue.

It was familiar, but Hoshi couldn't place why— the thoughts escaped their grasp no matter how hard they tried. It was like trying to catch mist, frustrating and exhausting and impossible. They pushed the recognition out of their mind and focused on the present instead.

Hoshi couldn't help it— tears welled up in their (differentstrangeweird _alien_ ) eyes. The lavender color the Akashics treasured so much— the shade of purple that had been proof of Hoshi's blood relation to _zia_ and _nonno_ and mama— it was _gone_ , replaced by a navy blue that absolutely _no one else had_.

Anger came next; an unreasonable, burning desire to mince something into tiny little pieces and watch it paint Hoshi's hands red. _Why_? Why were they _blue_? Eyes couldn't just _change color_ like that! This wasn't some anime, or cartoon, or fantasy game!

…Right?

After all, Hoshi had found out that they'd been _reincarnated_. That was a very fictional scenario that they'd never thought would happen to them. Compared to reincarnation, what was a different eye color?

Their stomach churned, and Hoshi's face fell. Nobody would really notice the reincarnation part, because Hoshi's always been smarter than they were supposed to be, but the change in eye color was an obvious trait they couldn't hide.

It wasn't _that_ bad, objectively; Hoshi had never liked making eye contact anyway. It made their skin crawl and their face flush after extended amounts of time. They felt like they were being stripped of every secret, like they had all of their fears laid bare and out in the open. But eye contact was a normal thing in daily life— Hoshi depended on doing it unconsciously, because eye contact played a major role in face recognition. Hoshi remembered being bad at that, when they had been a student. They couldn't remember half of their classmates' names and faces even though it was the end of the school year. Now, Hoshi had no such luxuries— they were an assassin, and they had to be able to recognize their targets when they were out in the field.

But Hoshi's eyes were _distinctive_ , now; it was a trait they were sure belonged only to them.

How were they supposed to get used to _that_?

Plus, what would _zia_ have to say about it? They knew their eyes were (had been) her favorite parts of Hoshi, because they resembled mama's. Now that that was gone, would she hate them? It was a very real possibility. Hoshi felt like throwing up.

Luckily, the sink was right in front of them.

.㇩5.

It was breakfast time.

The clock on the wall read 7:30. Usually, Hoshi would be out at the dining table already, eating whatever the cooks decided to make this morning, but today, none of the servants had entered Hoshi's room. No one was rummaging through the closet, muttering about cute pink skirts or ugly fuchsia shirts. Instead, there was a neatly folded outfit waiting for them on the corner of their bed. Guess Hoshi would dress themself up today.

They changed into a soft gray sweater and white shorts with knee-high black socks— an unusually monotone ensemble. The servants liked to dress Hoshi up in pastel colors most of the time…what was with the lack of color?

A soft knock captured Hoshi's attention, and they called, "Come in."

Selena, as was customary, entered with a swift bow. Hoshi panicked for a split second, not knowing where to look. They chose to focus on the space behind her neck. It would keep her face in their peripheral vision, but it decreased the amount of accuracy Hoshi could use to pinpoint her emotions. The only telltale reaction Selena gave at their new eye color was a hitch of the breath. It was small and easily looked over, but it stabbed at Hoshi's insecurities. Hoshi dug their nails into their palm, closing their _blueblueblue_ eyes.

To her credit, Selena didn't comment on them. She only inclined her head and murmured, "Lord Akashic would like to see you. Come along, now."

Together, they headed to _nonno_ 's office. Hoshi wasn't sure what to expect. Praise for killing someone? Admonishment for getting lost in the first place? And what would he say about their eyes? _Nonno_ was always hard to read, and now, when Hoshi wouldn't be able to make eye contact…

"We're here," Selena said, and Hoshi snapped out of their thoughts. She knocked twice and a gravelly voice rumbled, "Enter."

Hoshi gingerly eased themself in. Selena stayed outside and shut the doors behind them. They kept their head down as _nonno_ let a tense silence hang in the air.

"Look at me."

His voice was tinged with irritation and Hoshi's head couldn't have snapped up faster. Blue met lavender.

Hoshi tried to tell if _nonno_ was feeling any particular emotion, but the quirk of his eyebrow was all his facial expression gave away. At least he wasn't angry. If he was, he'd be frowning behind clasped hands.

"Hoshi."

Snapping to attention, Hoshi reflexively focused onto _nonno_ 's eyes once again. The envy that swelled in their chest suffocated Hoshi. They wanted their eyes back. _Nonno_ stared and stared and stared, and Hoshi couldn't look away because conceding first would be a sign of weakness and assassins weren't supposed to show any. Their head swam and they wanted to throw up again. (Don't look, don't look don't look _don't look!_ )

"You've made your first kill."

Hoshi stiffened and saw _nonno_ 's frown of disapproval at the blatant emotion. They schooled their expression and nodded somewhat jerkily.

"You are the youngest Akashic to accomplish this. Congratulations."

Youngest? Seriously?

…Ah. Wait. Hoshi was, physically, four.

"Thank you, _nonno_."

 _Nonno_ nodded and held up something vaguely familiar. Hoshi let their eyes take in the object. Oh. The clip.

They'd completely forgotten about it.

(Oops.)

"This," he began, "is an artifact from about two hundred years ago. The Akashics have left it untouched, believing there had been no use for it…but two days ago, we have been alerted to its significance."

…Um, okay. Wasn't it just an old clip?

Wait.

Two days ago? Hoshi slept for _a day straight_? …Well, that explained why servants hadn't come in…they didn't know when Hoshi would wake.

"It has been decided that this artifact will be bestowed upon you, as you are the only one capable of making use of it. Treat it well."

He was giving it to Hoshi?

"Yes, _nonno_."

With bated breath, Hoshi let the clip drop onto their cupped palms, and promptly dropped it.

Why, you ask?

Well, because upon contact, it started burning.

Like, _literally on fire_ burning.

"The _Stella Cadente_ Flame," _nonno_ breathed with something akin to respect, and that was when Hoshi's world tilted on its axis.

.㇩5.

"A Dying Will Flame is a high-density form of energy that is refined from one's life force. Typically, there are seven Flames of the Sky. Storm, Sky, Sun, Lightning, Rain, Cloud, and Mist, each with their own attributes. The purity of a flame is connected to how much of its attribute is drawn out. The higher the rate, the more attribute," _nonno_ recited.

Hoshi nodded, unable to do anything else because of the pounding in their head. They were forgetting something. What was it? What was Hoshi unable to recall?

"Storm is Disintegration. Sky is Harmony. Sun is Activation. Lightning is Hardening. Rain is Tranquilization. Cloud is Propagation. Mist is Construction."

Hoshi chose to think on it later, when they weren't in the company of their grandfather. Staring down at the flames bursting from the clip in their grasp, they noticed that it was the same shade of blue their new eye color was. Coincidence? Somehow, Hoshi doubted it.

"Yours is not one of those. You wield the Shooting Star Flame."

The flames didn't burn Hoshi's skin. They wondered why.

"The Flame you bear is an exceedingly rare type of Flame that has only been recorded once in history."

Hoshi didn't want them. With great power came great responsibility, right? Hoshi didn't want that. They didn't want any of this.

"Presumably, your attribute is Analyzation. We will test this later. You will be summoned after breakfast. Dismissed."

They bowed and walked out in a daze, still mesmerized by the unsettling Flame dancing across their palms. It didn't behave like a real fire; instead of flickering, small sparks shot out of the wavering flame. Some of them disappeared into thin air, and others orbited around the fire before either returning to it or fading away. _Kind of like actual shooting stars_ , they mused.

The _click clack_ of high heels interrupted their thoughts, and Hoshi looked up, alarmed. The Flame puttered away pitifully, leaving only the unburnt star-shaped clip behind. _Zia_ rounded the corner, brow furrowed in deep thought. She glanced up as she approached Hoshi.

Usually, by this point she would snort derisively and make a remark about how Hoshi seemed to be slacking off if they were in the hallways instead of being tutored. Instead, she halted in her tracks, and an unreadable emotion flashed through her eyes as she stared at them before continuing on her way. Zia entered the doors to _nonno_ 's office with little fanfare.

Hoshi let out a breath they didn't know they were holding.

 _At least_ , they couldn't help but think, _she didn't hate them_.

.㇩5.

 _Nonno_ looked over Hoshi with a critical eye. He seemed to come to a conclusion as he reclined in his office chair.

"You may have awakened your Flames, but you are too young to put them to good use," he decided. "Learning to use Dying Will Flames requires a massive amount of time, dedication, and energy that you cannot yet afford. You will be learning Flame theory from Selena; however, under no circumstances are you to ever try to use your power unsupervised. Is that clear?"

Hoshi bowed. "Yes, _nonno_."

.㇩5.

"Who are you?"

After being dismissed, Hoshi's day proceeded as it usually did. Academics, such as algebra, Italian, English, and Japanese, were followed by physical lessons. Tomorrow Hoshi would learn how to handle a gun.

The last thing Hoshi remembered was slipping under the covers of their bed and waiting for sleep to take them. So how did they end up back in the garden?

"I already told you my name, didn't I?"

This…wasn't a dream. You couldn't hear voices in dreams. It was possible to get the _impression_ of someone talking, of course. You could understand what the people in your dream were trying to tell you. But it wasn't possible to be able to hear an actual _voice_. This wasn't a dream.

"But a name isn't who you _are_."

Ryuusei laughed.

"Well, you would know that, wouldn't you?"

It wasn't possible to dream up faces, either. A brain didn't have the ability to create an original face. It used faces you've already seen, either in passing or on a daily basis. Even if the face you dreamed of belonged to someone you've only seen on the street for a split second, it was still a face that already existed. Ryuusei was a complete and total stranger. Hoshi could guarantee that in both lives, they'd never seen this person before.

"You know?"

This wasn't a dream.

(Then what was it?)

"Of course. I'm like you, after all."

A sliver of information, dropped on purpose. Hoshi processed it and tilted their head, eyes narrowed just the slightest.

"Somehow, I doubt it."

A placating smile unfurled on Ryuusei's lips.

"No no, I'm serious. The whole reincarnation package and everything."

Hoshi scanned Ryuusei's face. No sign on dishonesty— but, of course, Ryuusei could just be an amazing liar. They stared into navy eyes, searching for an emotion to place, and startled when they recognized something else pinged their radar instead.

"…You have the same eyes as me."

Ryuusei made a neutral noise of affirmation, lips still quirked up.

"How?"

"Isn't it obvious? What color do your eyes remind you of?"

Well, _obviously_ Hoshi already made the connection to their Flames, but it didn't hurt to make _sure_ , you know? Besides, it didn't make sense. How did awakening a power automatically translate to a change in eye color? Biology didn't work like that. Sheesh. Whatever. Okay. So, maybe they were more similar than Hoshi initially thought. But so what? What use was that information?

Not knowing what to think, Hoshi chose to take in their surroundings instead. It was still raining, still windy, as if nothing's changed since Hoshi had last visited, except— one flower stood out against the rest, striking in its crystal-cut edges. All of the other blossoms in the field were still blurry, like they'd been smudged before their paint dried. Hoshi didn't recall a flower like that during their last visit, but they hadn't been paying attention much. Maybe they just missed it.

"Why is that one different than the rest?"

Ryuusei followed their curious gaze and answered absently, "That flower? It represents the soul you've entered into the reincarnation cycle."

…What?

"Where…What is this place?"

Ryuusei hummed thoughtfully. Hoshi thought that airy smile was getting rather annoying. "This place…represents you. Your whole being. Your fears, your doubts, your accomplishments, your dreams…you can find them all here. In shorter terms, this is your mindscape."

Their…mindscape. Okay…?

"So…every time I kill someone…a flower will become clearer?"

Another nod.

Hoshi digested that for a moment. What was the _point_ of that? To keep track of how many people Hoshi's killed? That was…kind of morbid. And disturbing. Why would they need to keep count anyway? Plus, there was a whole garden's worth of flowers. Was Hoshi…was Hoshi supposed to _kill enough people to fill the meadow_?

"I see you've come to the right conclusion."

Hoshi's unbelieving stare cut to Ryuusei's face.

" _Why_?" They demanded. "Why do I have to kill so many? Why do I have to fill the garden? What happens when I do?"

Ryuusei blinked with a tilt of the head to convey the appropriate amount of confusion. "…Don't you remember? The first time you were here…you were paid a visit, weren't you? You know why."

They did know why. But that didn't answer one of their questions. Ryuusei noticed that and continued, "As for what happens…well, what do you think will happen to you after Death doesn't need you anymore?"

A useless tool was either packed away or discarded.

Hoshi felt terror crawling up their spine. They didn't want either to happen to them. Besides, how would they be put on a shelf and left to collect dust? They were human— they wouldn't sit there prettily, waiting to be used again; they'd age and _rot_. So the only other option was…

But…what about Ryuusei?

"Is that what happened to you? Were you just…shelved away?"

Ryuusei had a blank look that lasted for a few moments before realization lit up in blue eyes. "Oh! No, what you're thinking of is wrong. I did this to myself. No, Death would just take you. It's not the type to keep us alive— it's _death_ , after all. Obviously, I didn't want to die, so."

Hoshi squinted. "What the _heck_ did you do to yourself?"

Ryuusei shrugged noncommittally.

"Let's save that for another day. You have a lot of things you need to realize about this world, but you're waking up."

Indignant, Hoshi scowled. "Wha—?! I didn't even _learn_ anything! Who the heck are you?! What are you doing in my mindscape? How did you get here!"

"Tomorrow," Ryuusei reiterated.

"Oi—"

.㇩5.

Hoshi woke up.

"Dammit."

* * *

 **Edited on 7/4.**

 **If you find any errors, tell me in a review!**

 **As for the story! If you don't want to read into it yourself, I'll point some things out! The most noticeable thing this time, I think, is the jump in mentalities Hoshi experiences. They don't point it out because they don't notice. But some of the more casual dialogue and thoughts are attributed to the highschool persona. Kid!Hoshi was a lot more formal with their speech, even though they had the reasoning of a child. Teen!Hoshi is good at assuming things and drawing the right conclusions from context clues, but they were pretty lax and casual. Together, Now!Hoshi is extremely smart, and not too uptight but not too carefree.**

 **Thanks for reading, as always!**


	5. T-Tauri Phase: Saiph

**Warnings:** _Chapter 4 has been edited. Parts have been deleted and new ones have been added. Please go back and read it once more!_

* * *

 _ **T-Tauri Phase**_

 **t-tauri**

 _noun—_

 _the prototype for a class of very young stars, still in the process of gravitational contraction._

* * *

The next day at 7:30 in the morning, Hoshi woke up to the routinely knock at their door. Servants slipped in, as they always did. They riffed through the assortment of Hoshi's clothes, muttering and mumbling until an appropriate outfit was picked out. Like usual, they dressed Hoshi in a child's dress shirt and a pastel blue skirt that reached their knees. They left in the same quiet and orderly fashion they always did.

And yet, it didn't feel routinely. People weren't supposed to enter their room without permission. They weren't supposed to choose Hoshi's outfit for them. They weren't supposed to strip Hoshi and dress them up like a doll. They weren't supposed to _be here_ , doing things that Hoshi could do themself.

But they were, and it wasn't like they could do anything about it, so Hoshi sucked it up and kept quiet. At least they didn't comment on Hoshi's eyes. (Hoshi had a feeling this thought would haunt their steps for a long, long time.) Even if they'd talk about it behind Hoshi's back, it wouldn't be to their face, and that was good enough. Out of sight, out of mind.

Breakfast today was fluffy pancakes drenched in maple syrup. For once, both _nonno_ and _zia_ sat at the table, eating. The comfortable silence Hoshi usually ate in turned strained and tense. They stared down at their food, not making eye contact with either of their family members.

Mornings would proceed in this fashion until the next year, but Hoshi didn't know that yet.

.㇩5.

Nighttime could not come any faster for Hoshi.

"Goodnight!" They called to Selena, disregarding her bewildered expression as they made a beeline for their bedroom.

"Ah, Hoshi, you do know that the servants have yet to tend to you—"

"There's no need!" Hoshi threw in a brilliant grin for effect. "I'm a big boy now! I can do it all by myself!" Silently, they grimaced at addressing themself as a boy. See, this was why they liked Japanese better. No pronouns, only names.

Selena's outstretched had flopped uselessly back to her side. "Well, if you say so…" She inconspicuously wiped her eyes with a handkerchief as the door swung closed. Hoshi politely ignored the sniffling behind them.

"…growing up so quickly…"

With the door shut, Hoshi shimmied out of their clothes swiftly, folding them and putting them into a basket beside the bathroom door. Grabbing a plain gray t-shirt, clean underwear, and shorts, Hoshi headed into the bathroom. They relished at the privacy they had. With the addition of their previous memories, being bathed would have been uncomfortable and embarrassing.

Now, they mused, staring at the tub; a bath or a shower?

.㇩5.

Hoshi looked around with a grin that was one part self-satisfied and two parts relieved. This was the second time they'd ended up here in their sleep. Another time, and it would be a pattern, and then Hoshi could reliably assume that sleeping would bring them to their mindscape.

"Welcome back," hummed a seemingly carefree voice. Hoshi leaned forward, rocking back on their heels.

"Answers?" They prompted.

Another indulgent smile came from where Ryuusei sat, idly snapping flowers off of their stems. Each one grew back, just as blurry as before. The blossoms in Ryuusei's fingers dissolved into glowing dust. "Well, you'll have to give me a place to start, first."

Hoshi sat down, uncaring of the flowers they must have crushed underneath. They'd grow back.

"If this is my mindscape, how'd you get here?"

Ryuusei blew on the dust and watched as it floated away, mixing with the rain. A delicate finger reached up and, pausing a bit when Hoshi flinched, tapped the left side of Hoshi's forehead. Hoshi reached up to brush at the spot with a confused twist of their mouth.

With a small _oh_ , Hoshi tangled their small fingers in their hair. This was where they had taken to wearing the clip.

A comfortable silence settled between them as Hoshi fell into thought. A while later, another question interrupted the steady sound of rainfall.

"Then…if I fall asleep without touching it, would I still end up here?"

"No. The clip helps you access your mindscape. You can learn to do it on your own, though."

Hoshi drew their legs up to their chest and laid their head down, peering at Ryuusei. "How'd you get stuck in a clip?"

Ryuusei chuckled, "I didn't get stuck in it, I burned my Will into it. And no," was added as Hoshi opened their mouth, "I'm not going to tell you how. Truthfully, this might have been a worse alternative than straight-up dying."

Hoshi's mouth clicked closed. "Nothing's worse than dying."

Ryuusei reached out again, to pat Hoshi's head. Hoshi tensed but didn't recoil. A slow, serene, terrible smile blossomed on Ryuusei's face.

"That's not true, really. But I hope you'll never have to find that out."

.㇩5.

"You called, Selena?"

It was six months later, on a rainy April day, when Hoshi met their only other blood relative.

Saiph looked almost exactly like _zia_ — lavender hair gathered into a neat bun, bangs freely framing the sides of her face, and eyeliner around her ghostly gaze. Objectively, if she clipped her fringe up with bobby pins, even Hoshi would have difficulty discerning them apart. But a part of Hoshi had spent their entire life idolizing _zia_. Hoshi could spot the differences immediately.

For one, the air around Saiph was a lot softer. Being around _zia_ made the hair on your neck rise, made your breathing shallow, made you wary. She intimidated people with her sharp demeanor and biting words. Saiph seemed a lot more approachable in comparison. She, at least, wore a smile on her face, no matter how plastic it was.

Another thing was her overall posture. _Zia_ always stood on alert, too straight and high-strung to pass as an ordinary civilian in broad daylight. She never crossed her legs in case she needed to jump up and take action, and her hair was always tied out of the way for better visibility. Saiph seemed to slouch a little, like many people tended to do without realizing. Hoshi had no doubt it was intentional. She wore her hair down, and when Selena ushered her onto a velvet couch, she had no qualms about propping her legs up onto the footstool.

The last major thing was the swaddle cradled in her arms.

"Would you like to meet your cousin, Hoshi?" Saiph hummed, and Hoshi flicked their eyes to hers for a split second. They nodded politely.

She sniffed with something akin to disdain. "Vocalize your response."

"Yes please… _zia_?"

Hoshi frowned. They hadn't thought this through. _Zia_ was already _zia_ , so Saiph had to be something else.

"You may address me as _zietta_ ," Saiph smirked knowingly, and then she gestured to the quiet bundle. "This is Fuuta. He's going to be the last addition to the Akashic line, so set a good example for him, okay?"

"Okay."

A beat, and then another, and before Saiph could speak up again Selena returned from fetching tea. Hoshi stared unabashedly at _zietta_ as she sipped it. _Zia_ hated tea. She practically lived off of black coffee. Hoshi's nose wrinkled just thinking about it. Sure, they loved her and all, but… _black coffee_?

"Is something the matter?" The amused lilt to Saiph's voice snapped Hoshi out of their thoughts.

They fumbled for something to say and ended up blurting out, "Ah, um…who's the dad? Did you get a boyfriend? Or a sperm donor…? Or adoption?"

The question drew Selena's attention as well, and they both waited for Saiph's response, knowing that it might not ever come. They were pleasantly surprised when it did.

"Ah, no. I have a husband."

…

"What," Hoshi said flatly.

"What?" Selena gaped.

Saiph blinked. "What?"

.㇩5.

So.

Saiph was married. It was a Thing.

 _Zia_ was going to be _furious_.

Hoshi shivered in trepidation. Apparently _zietta_ had a lot more guts than Hoshi had considered, because, well. _Zia_ used to go ballistic every time "producing an heir" or "marriage" was brought up in a conversation. Now, no one mentions it around her. And, sure, Hoshi probably shouldn't have assumed Saiph wouldn't get married just because _zia_ didn't want to, but they'd always thought the younger sibling imitated the older sibling. Hoshi did, back when they had an older sister.

Saiph must have gotten married fairly recently. _Zia_ hadn't wrecked any halls, destroyed any gardens, or instigated a snarling match with _nonno_ in the past year. Not to mention, even if the wedding was kept a secret, _zia_ was no slacker when it came to sniffing out information she didn't like. The baby, however…how did _zia_ 's contacts miss such a huge thing? Nine months was a long stretch of time to avoid detection.

Maybe, Hoshi thought, they had underestimated _zietta_. Maybe they were putting _zia_ on a pedestal. Maybe Saiph might be better than _zia_ at the whole informant thing. She seemed confident. Sure of herself. She wasn't afraid of a confrontation. What did she have up her sleeve, to be so undaunted?

Hoshi's grip tightened and the baby in their arms let out a soft whimper. Saiph had tasked them with holding Fuuta until she returned from her chat with _zia_ and _nonno_. Hoshi didn't know why she didn't just leave him in a cradle or something, but it wasn't their place to comment. Immediately rectifying their mistake, they dropped their eyes down to Fuuta's form.

Something began to shift in Hoshi as they watched Fuuta's sleeping face. His skin was unblemished and smooth, like the metal of a polished knife. Brown tufts of wispy hair rested on his delicate head. Caramel eyes opened silently, and Hoshi lifted their eyebrows. Guess he wasn't as asleep as they had assumed.

With a quiet gurgle, his pudgy, squishy hand reached up.

Something clicked.

Like the last puzzle piece slotting into the jigsaw you've been working on for a week. Like completing the last homework assignment you'd have for the school year. Like folding the thousandth origami star and making a wish.

Fuuta's eyes flashed a deep, dark blue. Stars filled his gaze, and the empty teacup left on the table began _floating_. Hoshi dared not to breathe.

 _What the actual fuck._

It was gone in an instant. Fuuta's hand dropped as he yawned and snuggled into the blanket that swaddled him. The teacup clattered back onto the table. It was as if nothing had happened. For a second, Hoshi took the time to contemplate if they were seeing things or going crazy. But who were they kidding, really?

Something had definitely, undeniably, unquestionably happened.

Hoshi shuddered, disturbed at the lack of discomfort they felt in Fuuta's presence despite the alarming experience that just occurred. In fact, Hoshi felt comfortable. _Safe_ , even. They hadn't felt that way since the Incident.

Thoroughly unsettled, Hoshi directed a narrowed glare at the bundle in their arms. Fuuta's face was one of picture-perfect innocence.

Babies were absolutely terrifying.

* * *

 **WSF IS OFFICIALLY ONE YEAR OLD IN TWO DAYS! Thank you all for sticking with me through thick, thin, and rewrite! When Stars Fall, as of this update, has 378 followers, 314 favorites, 164 reviews, and is in 6 communities!**

 **NOTICE: CHAPTER 4 HAS BEEN REWRITTEN. PLEASE GO BACK AND REREAD IT.**

 **I honestly do not know what I was thinking when I wrote that, but I cringed every time I reread it, so it went bye bye.**

 **I'll edit this later! Please feel free point out any mistakes!**


	6. T-Tauri Phase: White Orchid

**Warnings:** _Murder, death mention, unintentional misgendering in Dearly Beloved._

* * *

 ** _T-Tauri Phase_**

 **t-tauri**

 _noun—_

 _the prototype for a class of very young stars, still in the process of gravitational contraction._

* * *

Friendship.

It was a strange thing. Hoshi wasn't entirely sure how it worked, to be honest. How did you differentiate the line between "friend" and "acquaintance"? There wasn't a checkpoint, no notification saying, "Congratulations! [Name] has been added to your Friends List!"

Thus, Hoshi wasn't entirely sure if this relationship could be labelled as "friendship". They just kind of…commiserated over the headaches and uncertainty that came along with the extra knowledge shoved into their brains. A relationship built off of spite and shared pain. If they met in any other circumstance, Hoshi was absolutely sure they wouldn't have gotten along so well.

How they met, then, was worth noting.

It began like this:

.㇩5.

"Hoshi-nii!"

Hoshi stopped walking, discreetly tucking the knife they'd been twirling away. They turned to see Fuuta toddling after them, hands outstretched and latching onto Hoshi's shorts. The two year-old grinned up at them, expectant, and Hoshi huffed fondly before continuing to pass through the hallway.

"Did you want something, Fuuta?"

Nodding empathetically, the toddler tugged again and chirped, "Wanna play!"

Ah, that was bad. It was almost one o'clock…Hoshi had to leave on a mission soon. If they didn't, they'd miss the target's weekly shopping trip. Hoshi couldn't afford that this time. The client wanted the target dead by the end of the week, but the sooner the better.

Hoshi knelt and looked Fuuta in the eye. "Sorry, Fuuta. Hoshi-nii has to go work right now. Later, okay?"

With a pout and puppy-dog eyes, Fuuta tightened his grip. They stared at each other for a long moment, and Fuuta acquiesced with a disappointed huff.

"…Promise?"

"Promise."

"Okay then!" With that, Fuuta released his hold and toddled off in search of another playmate— probably another unsuspecting servant, Hoshi mused dryly. Well, that was none of their business; they had a job to attend to. Standing up, Hoshi slipped their knife back out and idly twirled it as they headed off.

.㇩5.

The target was Rachele Pietro, age twenty-six. The arrogant, stuck-up daughter of the Storm Guardian of the Donnola _famiglia_ , Rachele was known for her frivolous dating activities and her not-so-subtle gold-digging. Every Sunday, she shook off all of her bodyguards for an hour to spend the money her boyfriends showered her in.

Kind of dumb, but Hoshi wasn't looking a gift horse in the mouth.

One such boyfriend was the client that hired them. Apparently, he hadn't realized she had multiple boyfriends even though she never hid the fact. Now he was throwing a giant man-tantrum about it. Still, Hoshi wasn't in a position to complain, since the man offered a nice price.

It was an easy job. With no bodyguards, Rachele was as about safe as she was smart. Which was, if you hadn't gotten the memo, not at all. Sure, it took place in a shopping mall, and yeah, it was on a sunny Sunday afternoon, but crowds stopped being a problem for Hoshi at age five. Last year. In the end, it only took a gun with a silencer, a shot to the back of the head, and a clean getaway.

Hoshi might have felt bad for saying this, but…assassination was getting _boring_.

.㇩5.

Nevermind. Hoshi took it all back. Assassination wasn't boring after all. They would rather kill a person over… _this_ , any day.

 _This_ being a face-to-face encounter with someone Hoshi wasn't entirely sure was real.

Byakuran Gesso was supposed to be fictional, right?

"What're you doing?" Hopefully-not-Byakuran asked, canting his head to the side. A foxlike smile graced his face, filled with innocent curiosity and something slightly more dangerous. The signature purple tattoo of a certain antagonist from a manga series stood stark against the pale tone of his skin, and white hair brushed against his eyelashes.

For an instant, Hoshi saw a character, not a human.

 _…_ _Right_?

They discreetly tugged Fuuta behind them, but judging by the way Maybe-Byakuran's eyes flicked between the two, he noticed it. Damn.

"Playing hide-and-seek," Hoshi answered cheerfully, in a direct contrast toward their actions. Possibly-Byakuran's attention refocused on Hoshi, and they relaxed, falling into a familiar role: a probing, curious child. "What're _you_ doing? You're a client, aren't you? Usually clients stay in the main hall. Are you lost?"

There was a hint of something sharp in their tone that Hoshi couldn't quite hide, giving their words a slightly different meaning. Translation: _What are you doing? You're not supposed to be here. Go back or I'll assume you have ill intentions._

Suspected-of-being-Byakuran may be a kid, but Hoshi was also a kid. If Hoshi, age six, was an _assassin_ , who knew what _he_ could be?

Is-this-Byakuran's purple eyes crinkled with his nod. "Actually, I am!"

Hoshi blinked, thrown off.

Did the hidden threat not register?

"I went to the restroom earlier, but I couldn't find my way back to my parents! Can you help me? All the doors here look the same!"

Well _,_ _yeah_. That was the _point_. To get potential threats lost.

And that was the question here, wasn't it? Assessing the threat level of a criminal's child was surprisingly difficult. Everyone raised their child in a different way, and the danger scale spanned from "my child doesn't have a clue about my occupation" to "my child has murdered six full-grown men and then some".

 _So,_ Hoshi thought with a calculating stare, _are you dangerous? Or not?_

"We're _playing_ right now!" Fuuta piped up, scowling at the white-haired unknown. He tugged harshly on the hem of Hoshi's shorts, eyes wide and pleading. "You _promised_!"

Patting Fuuta's head, Hoshi absently reassured, "Yeah, I did."

But it wasn't as if they could give Please-don't-be-Byakuran directions and expect him to follow them like a good little boy. If he really _was_ a spy, or gathering information, or anything of the sort, then Hoshi would do well to personally escort him out. Even if he was telling the truth and had gotten himself lost in foreign territory, the thought of letting someone wander around the compound unsupervised was enough to give Hoshi hives.

But if they were agreeing to help him, then Hoshi was going to get something out of it. Equivalent exchange and all that. Hoshi was going to pry something useful out of Preferably-not-Byakuran's mouth. There was no point in associating with someone that was useless to them.

"What's your name?" Hoshi casually dropped as they began walking, pulling Fuuta along by the hand. Fuuta lapsed into silence, reading the mood with startling accuracy. _This kid is going to be terrifying one day_ , Hoshi mused fondly.

I'm-running-out-of-things-to-label-Byakuran trotted up to them and kept pace easily, a tension Hoshi hadn't noticed before flowing out of his shoulders. Seems like he really had been lost, even if the act of wandering off itself may or may not have been intentional.

"It's Byakuran Gesso!" He confirmed, glancing at Hoshi with a genuine grin. "How about you? And your little brother?"

…Holy shit?

 _This didn't mean anything_ , Hoshi reassured themself. What were the chances that someone with the same name and physical traits as a fictional character was _actually_ a fictional character? And sure, maybe they were in Italy and clients were usually involved with the mafia, but it wasn't as if the future would follow some shounen-genre plot, right?

…Even Hoshi could admit that sounded like a bunch of excuses at this point. They internally winced.

The Vongola were a real _famiglia_ here, one of the Akashics most valued clients. The Cavallone were a very prominent figure as well. And…Hoshi hadn't thought anything of them at first. Who would, really? No one would jump to the conclusion of "I'm in a manga!" if they learned of a few names. No; they'd go, "Oh, that's funny! What a coincidence!"

Which was exactly what Hoshi had done.

But once was happenstance, twice was a coincidence, and thrice was a pattern. Would the Byakuran in front of them really grow up to become a megalomaniac with a god-complex? This kid, with a polka-dot backpack hanging off of one shoulder and untied shoelaces on both feet?

Fuuta tugged on Hoshi's hand, looking up at them inquisitively. Hoshi frowned in confusion before blinking in realization. They shook their head; there was no need to let Byakuran know that they were cousins, not brothers. Fuuta settled back down.

"I'm Hoshi Akashic. This is Fuuta."

Before Hoshi could snoop further, like ask after Byakuran's age, the boy in question stumbled. Hoshi halted automatically, turning to him in confusion. Byakuran was clutching at his head and swaying dangerously on his feet. Alarmed, Hoshi didn't think twice about catching him as he fell. "What's wrong?! Are you okay?"

All they got in response was a ragged breath, followed by a strangled whine. Hoshi winced— even though they were going through pain resistance training, you could never get used to headaches, and Byakuran's seemed particularly painful.

Fuuta whispered, in that loud way all toddlers seemed to do, "Is he okay? Does he have an ouchie?"

"Yeah, he has an ouchie," Hoshi murmured, crouching and gently shaking Byakuran by the shoulders. "Hey, what happened? Are you okay?"

Through ragged breaths, he managed to get out, "Ho…shi…"

Hoshi bit their lip, unsure of what to do. Headaches…aspirin? No…advil? Or was it really aspirin? Argh, they couldn't remember!

"Fuuta, do you know how to get to the infirmary?" At the boy's nod, Hoshi continued, faltering, "Can you ask for…aspirin?"

"Aspr…"

"As-pir-in."

"As-pir-in! Okay!"

Footsteps pattered away as Fuuta's figure grew more distant. Hoshi, caught up in wondering whether aspirin was the correct choice, almost didn't catch the words that came out of Byakuran's mouth.

"You…know…about me. Don't you?"

Hoshi's kneejerk reaction was to back away. With a grunt, Byakuran fell onto his knees, still holding his head. Not even experiencing the tiniest amount of pity amidst the overwhelming panic that was swelling up in them, Hoshi shakily asked, "J-Just now…what did you say?"

Byakuran looked up, straight into Hoshi's eyes. His own were feverishly bright, as if he'd finally found something he'd been searching for. "You know, don't you? About the alternate universes. About me. About what I can do. Hoshi, answer me!"

Hoshi's mouth went painfully dry.

 _Don't give away valuable information._

But, just this once, it wouldn't hurt, would it? Because—

 _Hoshi, answer me!_

—had been a plea, not a demand.

Hoshi opened their mouth.

.㇩5.

"Yes."

(...And maybe, that was all it took to start a friendship.)

* * *

Byakuran hummed as he took out a large, thick book from his backpack. It was a coffee-colored brown, and delicate swirls of golden ink decorated its spine, reading, " **The Akashic Record** ".

Hoshi peered over his shoulder curiously. Raising an eyebrow and snorting, they asked, "The Akashic Record? What's this for?"

"I record lots of stuff in here," explained Byakuran as he dug around his bag. Pulling out a pen with a triumphant grin, he continued, "Only the ones with you in it, though."

"…That's kind of creepy."

"Not really. Well, the other version of me didn't think so when I first made it. You were an anomaly, after all. Gotta record it somewhere."

Hoshi twisted their lips. "I guess. What kind of stuff, though?"

"Mm…just, events that occur in the other universes, I guess. Like, a world where we're all dragons, or something. I don't think there's actually a universe that's like that yet, but you get it. Anyways, the other versions of me _really_ wanted me to make this book just in case you were here. They wanted to know how you'd react to other versions of you, I think? I'm actually not that sure."

"I don't really think that's why…I feel like they wanted other people to read it." Hoshi frowned. "I don't really want other people reading about alternate me's, though. So, did you have to write all of it down by yourself?"

"Yeah," Byakuran sighed. "It was a lot of work at first."

"Can I see?"

"Sure. Just don't tear any pages, okay?"

"Don't worry, I won't."

* * *

 **The Akashic Record: Dearly Beloved**

Kyoko knows she has a crush on Sawada Tsunayoshi.

She also knows he doesn't return the sentiment.

She doesn't fall for him for that reason— she wasn't searching for love in the first place, after all. She falls for him because even as people mock him, even as they hurt him, Tsunayoshi never showed signs of cracking. Never stopped walking forward. Never stopped trying.

And it _hurts_ , how he falls for Hoshi in the span of a day when he's never looked at her twice for _years_. It _hurts_ , how Hoshi is a genuinely kind person, because she can't resent him even if she tried.

It hurts, but...she knows she'll get over it, eventually.

.㇩5.

Kyoko bites her lip as she watches Hoshi hand Tsuna a birthday present.

She envies the way Hoshi makes Tsuna's cheeks turn red, envies the way she catches Tsuna staring at him, envies the way they can laugh together freely-

 _But you can't have any of that, because you've hurt him before,_ a nasty voice at the back of her mind whispers.

And it was right.

Because that one time she had spoken to him in elementary, she had also seen him getting beaten up right after school, and, and- it had been all _her_ fault, hadn't it? She _noticed_ , the way the bullying got worse after that, but she _couldn't do anything_ and it was _all her fault_ -

She tried to tell, of course. The teachers only gave the bullies detention, and the teasing never lessened. Kyoko couldn't tell her brother, not after she asked him to stop fighting. And she was weak.

So, so _weak_.

 _All her fault._

"Kyoko-chan, you okay?" She looks up to meet Hoshi's concerned frown. "There's no need to be scared— he'll be overjoyed at getting a present from you."

Would he really?

He wouldn't, if he knew.

Nevertheless, Kyoko finds herself smiling as she hands her own present over to Tsuna.

"Happy birthday, Tsuna-kun!" She chirps, and her heart flutters at the way he smiles.

.㇩5.

"Hoshi-kun...please teach me how to fight."

...She doesn't want to be weak anymore.

.㇩5.

Kyoko grits her teeth as she twirls the naginata and thrusts it forward. The training dummy shakes with the force, and Kyoko swiftly pulls the weapon out before-

"Stop. That was good, Kyoko-chan."

Kyoko eagerly takes the water bottle, wiping her sweat on the towel given to her. Her arms sting with the workout, and Kyoko feels...exhilarated. _Satisfied_. She hasn't felt this way since that one time she knocked a molester unconscious.

Hoshi —whom she envied, admired, and _hated_ and when she had asked for help he still gave it to her and she was so, _so_ grateful— grins and pats her head.

"I'm proud of you!" He says. "I've never taught anyone before, but I'm pretty sure you're learning very quickly, Kyoko-chan! You might even get better than me!"

"Thanks, Hoshi-kun," Kyoko giggles breathlessly, "but you're much more graceful than I could ever be."

"Well, let's both work hard!"

.㇩5.

Kyoko resolutely refuses to look at the blush Tsuna is sporting as he stares at Hoshi. _Refuses._

She wants to be able to make him look like that—

 _All her fault._

...It was for the best that he didn't.

She can feel her heart constricting painfully as she continues to talk to Hana.

.㇩5.

Tsuna is in the mafia.

 _The mafia._ She turns the thought over in her head. _The mafia._

It explains so much, but it means that if she wants to stay with him, she'll have to step up her game. As much as she resents it — _she was so helpless why couldn't she do anything by herself_ — Kyoko turns to Hoshi once again.

.㇩5.

"Actually...you look like you'd be great at infiltration, Kyoko-chan...but. Are you sure you want this?"

"Yes."

She _cannot_ be weak anymore.

.㇩5.

Kyoko watches with morbid fascination at the indigo.. _.thing_ puffing out of her hands.

 _It's fire,_ her mind reasons. _Dangerous._

It doesn't _move_ like fire does.

 _Still more like fire than anything else._

But it's _indigo_.

 _There are blue chemical fires, aren't there?_

But it's coming out of her _hands._

Hoshi chooses that moment to walk in.

"Oh," he says, after a bout of silence. "Congrats. You've unlocked your Dying Will Flame."

.㇩5.

No matter how far she reaches, no matter how much she chases— in the end, she keeps on being left behind.

 _Why?_ She wants to scream. _Why? Am I that weak? Am I that useless?_

She knows that's not true. She's beaten off thugs and the yakuza and even the occasional mafioso by this point. Hoshi just had a tendency to get swept up into the giant mess that always seemed to follow Tsuna around.

She gets the chance to prove herself with the arrival of pink smoke.

.㇩5.

"I can fight too!" Kyoko snaps. Her patience, her kindness, her tolerance— all gone.

She isn't weak anymore.

And yet, _yet_ — she's still being treated as if she's someone to be coddled.

She hates it. Why, why, why can't they see?

"I may not be as good as you all, I may not be as _skilled_ as you all, but _I can fight too_! _I'm not a damsel in distress!_ I deserve the right to know what's going on!"

Everyone stares at her, shocked into silence. Kyoko pushes on relentlessly, and when she spots Hoshi's approving smile, pride swells in her chest.

"You all tell me that I'll get hurt, that I'll be in danger, but I already _have been_ in danger! Did you know that just two weeks ago, an assassin found his way into my room?! No? Well guess what! _I_ was the one that had to get rid of him! _I_ was the one that protected myself! And I know I'm not strong, but I'm not fucking _weak_ either!"

"You know how to fight?" Her brother asks, dumbfounded expression slowly morphing into rage. _He's completely missing the point_ , she seethes quietly. The obtuseness she used to find endearing isn't so cute anymore. "Who taught you?"

"Me."

Heads turn to face Hoshi, who had a wholly unrepentant expression as he stared Ryohei down.

"How could you!" He explodes. "She'll get hurt! Kyoko isn't involved in this, why did you—"

And she is _done_. Not only is her own brother _brushing her off_ , he's yelling at the person who had helped her the _most_ , and she is _done_ letting people say whatever they wanted.

"STOP TALKING ABOUT ME AS IF I'M NOT HERE!"

Her naginata _sings_ as she disperses the Mist Flames covering it up and swings it in an arc. Ryohei dodges and Kyoko lunges, fingers skillfully twirling the long weapon.

That is the day she is stopped being written off as weak, and the acknowledgement makes her smile a bit brighter.

.㇩5.

Kyoko's lips curl up as she sees Hoshi drop his clip.

She has to muffle a giggle when both Tsunayoshi and Hoshi kneel down at the same time, and their fingers brush together. She is shaking with laughter as they look up in unison, and pink dusts Tsuna's cheeks when he notices the proximity of their faces.

Hoshi blinks in confusion and tilts his head. The sun's rays hit _just right_ , and Kyoko swears she sees _sparkles_ -

Tsuna's face explodes into red and Kyoko can't stifle her giggles anymore, because Hoshi looks absolutely _dumbfounded_ as he asks Tsunayoshi if he has a fever.

The envy is only a small pang by this point, and Kyoko is surprised at that realization.

Maybe she's finally getting over it— or maybe, just seeing Tsunayoshi so _happy_ soothes her heart, somewhat.

.㇩5.

She wants to _scream_. She wants to wail and laugh and shout and _sob_ and—

...How could he _do_ this to them?

Hoshi...Hoshi— that stupid, _stupid_ Hoshi—

How could he leave them behind? How could he leave _her_ behind? How could he leave _Tsunayoshi_ behind?

Didn't he know how precious he was to them?

Didn't he know how much he meant to her?

Didn't he know that he would leave Tsunayoshi _broken_?

 _No_ , that convoluted part of her mind hisses. _No, he never knew. He grew up pressured and stressed and held at a distance. No one's ever told him how important he was, how_ irreplaceable _he was, how he was a part of the_ family _. No one, no one, no one._ Not even you.

 _All her fault._

Kyoko is disgusted at herself, because even though Hoshi had been her mentor, even though he had been one of her best friends, even though he had been one of her most precious people—

In the end, she can still feel that tiny bubble of relief in her heart.

 _Disgusting._

She doesn't want to face Tsunayoshi when she's like this.

.㇩5.

She drowns herself in missions, completed using the techniques Hoshi had passed down to her. She makes a name for herself, and observes as mafioso from around the world stare at her in awe. She watches, heart tearing into two, as Tsunayoshi struggles to cope with the loss.

Kyoko knows she has a crush on Sawada Tsunayoshi.

She also knows that he will never reciprocate the feeling to anyone, not after the event that shattered him into a thousand pieces.

She knows, and...she'll get over it, eventually.

(...Eventually.)

* * *

 **Dearly Beloved is back!**

 **I'll admit that I love it a lot...and many of you guys loved it too! So it's going in the main story as an example!** **THE AKASHIC RECORD will be separate from WSF! It'll contain AU's, omakes, etc! I'll post it soon, so go check it out if you'd like!**

 **(Note: Kyoko refers to Hoshi with he/him because in that AU, Hoshi has not revealed that they use they/them. As a warning, future chapters will contain unintentional misgendering too. Hoshi doesn't care about it, but if you do, stay away from future chapters!)**

 **Please point out any typos and/or mistakes!**

 **Thanks for reading! Leave a review, maybe?**


	7. T-Tauri Phase: Leaving the Nest

**_T-Tauri Phase_**

 **t-tauri**

 _noun—_

 _the prototype for a class of very young stars, still in the process of gravitational contraction._

* * *

Over time, Hoshi's mindscape had become something of a refuge to them. It was pretty, quiet, peaceful, and, most of all, _rainy_. Rain was one of the best things in existence; Hoshi was willing to kill a man if it guaranteed rain the next day. But the absolute best thing about their mindscape was that it was a place where they could just lie down and do…nothing. To walk around without whispers and stares, to live without having expectations placed upon them… It was nice.

Plus, if Hoshi happened to have nothing to do, Ryuusei was always sitting by the lakeside, willing to offer training tips and advice on appeasing Fuuta and even the occasional small talk.

Like now.

"You've done well in the span of three years."

Hoshi hummed in acknowledgment, gaze flickering from their cupped hands, to Ryuusei's face, to the flower field, and back to their hands. The indigo flame produced from their palms wavered dangerously, and Hoshi fought to bite back a panicked curse.

Ryuusei shifted, settling back on a patch of particularly vivid flowers and observing the meadow. About one third of the blossoms were crystal clear, while the rest remained blurred out. It resembled a photo that hadn't finished rendering.

"Still, this is a bit much for three years, isn't it? You're only seven, there's no need to rush. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you seem _eager_ to die."

"If I kill enough, I'll die, and if I slack off, I'll die. What's the matter? Besides, _z_ _ia_ doesn't want me in the base," Hoshi mumbled half-heartedly, "because whenever I am, Fuuta sticks to me like glue, so she doesn't get to spend time with him." They sighed as the flame inevitably whittled away, dropping their hands into their lap and finally looking up.

Ryuusei said, "Your _zia_ kind of sucks."

"Don't say that," Hoshi sharply retorted. Ugh, _this_ conversation again. "She just doesn't like me."

"And why not?"

"Because…I remind her of papa, and she hates him."

Shrugging, Ryuusei continued, "She's projecting onto you so hard it gives me backlash. Your dad hasn't even been around to show his face for seven years, and she _still_ hasn't tried to make any amends with you. She sucks."

"She just needs time. Mama's death affected her a lot."

"Hoshi, you need to stop making excuses for her. It's been _seven years_. I don't think she'll move on anytime soon."

"She will," Hoshi insisted, brow furrowing. "She'll get over it once she finds the group that killed mama. Then she won't separate me from Fuuta all of the time, and she won't argue with _zietta_ as much, and she won't see papa whenever she looks at me. She _will_." Cutting off their rant, Hoshi refocused their gaze onto their clenched fists. They opened up their palms and summoned a purple flame that puffed with every movement.

Ryuusei couldn't help but heave another sigh.

"You know what they say about Clouds? That they're stubborn to the point of obstinacy. And, Mists are the best at fooling themselves…"

The comment went ignored.

Eyeing Hoshi, Ryuusei couldn't help but think; _those probably the only reasons why you still believe in her_.

.㇩5.

"Hoshi."

"Yes, _nonno_?"

Hoshi stared impassively up at their grandfather, standing straight and listening attentively, as usual. Inwardly, they sighed. Ryuusei wasn't wrong— the amount of hits they've been assigned lately…frankly, it was ridiculous, to the point where Hoshi was actually tiring out. It wasn't helping their boredom, either. Maybe they should pull off a Killua Zoldyck and run away? Ah, but alas, there wasn't a Hunter equivalent in this world. No conveniently over-glorified and over-powered job for the taking…and Hoshi wasn't willing to leave Fuuta alone, either.

 _Nonno_ 's eyes scanned their form for an eerily long amount of time. After three minutes, Hoshi spoke up. "Do you have another job for me to take?"

That seemed to snap him out of his reverie. "…No. As you are aware, the more influential _famiglie_ have been getting restless. They thirst for power whilst the Vongola recover from their loss."

It was true. The underworld had been getting restless ever since the Cradle Affair. Tensions skyrocketing, bloodlust thickening…but in the end, it wasn't any of Hoshi's concern. The Akashics only did what they were paid to do; nothing more, nothing less.

So why was he mentioning it?

"As a precaution, Altair and I have elected to send you to Japan for a year."

Hoshi froze with shock.

 _What_?

They unfroze just as quickly. Japan was large; it wasn't as if going there automatically meant visiting Namimori. Still, they'd have preferred to remain in Italy, because the plot never touches it…ever. In fact, the only time a major character was seen in Italy was when Yamamoto visited during the daily life arc. Unless Mukuro's backstory counted, then that was two times.

Still, Hoshi wanted an explanation. "As a precaution?"

 _Nonno_ looked less than pleased with Hoshi's emotional slip, but he continued to speak regardless. "Yes. Your control over the Shooting Star Flame has been growing, and you are experimenting with putting it to use, are you not?"

Hoshi nodded numbly.

"If any Mafioso catches a glimpse of the power you wield, the Akashics will draw unwanted attention. It is best to let them remain in the dark. Knowledge is power. The less they know, the stronger we are. The fact that you have this power is a secret, and if all goes accordingly, it will stay that way until the day you die. Understand?"

"Yes."

Hoshi hesitated and _nonno_ raised an eyebrow, silently gesturing for them to continue. "What about Fuuta? He has the same Flames as me. Is he coming along as well?"

A flash of _something_ in his eyes rang alarm bells in Hoshi mind, but they didn't dare to ask.

"Damage control," _nonno_ said, purposefully vague, and Hoshi wanted to scowl. What was _that_ supposed to mean? "He is not accompanying you. Dismissed."

Hoshi got the cue and left.

.㇩5.

"Bya-kun. Byakkun? Byaku-rin? Byakurin."

"Yes, yes, I'm listening," Byakuran hummed, not looking up from his writing. "What is it? Usually I'm the one that needs to get your attention."

"Which one?"

"Hm~…Byakurin has a nice ring to it."

"Okay then, Byakurin."

"Yes?"

"I'm leaving for Japan tomorrow."

Taking a moment to process that, Byakuran dropped his pen and whirled around to face Hoshi, who stared at him placidly. "What? For real?"

"Yeah."

"But— I thought you didn't want to get involved with them?"

"Just 'cause it's Japan doesn't mean it's Namimori," Hoshi replied with a grimace. "And it's not like I have a choice. I'll be staying at the base in Japan for a year."

Byakuran pouted. "Aw, I guess we can't stay in contact then. Neither of us have phones and your family disapproves of our friendship. At least you'll have a year to get rid of that lisp you have whenever you speak in Japanese."

"I do not have an lisp."

"Mhm."

"Screw off."

"I won't need to; you're leaving me here, all alone! Don't miss me too much, okay~?" Byakuran tossed a cheeky grin at Hoshi before pretending to swoon, hand splayed across his forehead. "Oh, woe is me! Now every time my parents drag me along here, I won't have anyone to play with!"

"Yeah you will," Hoshi snorted, before scowling at the floor. "Fuuta's staying here."

At that, Byakuran sat up, nose scrunched in confusion. "Huh? Why?"

"I dunno!" Hoshi bit their lip in frustration. " _Nonno_ was acting weird about it, too. Dammit, if only he let something slip…! I have no idea what he's up to!"

"Language," Byakuran said.

Hoshi stuck their tongue out at him. Byakuran responded in kind, and before either of them could do anything more, the door to the east wing's hall clicked open, and both of them tensed. Fuuta came pattering in, tears in his wide brown eyes. _Oh no_ , automatically came to mind, before it was followed by _what's wrong_?

"Hoshi-nii," he cried, "you're leaving?"

Oh. That's what was wrong.

"Yeah," Hoshi said gently, crouching down to his height. "I have to go tomorrow, and I won't be back for a year."

"Why?!" Fuuta voice was rising higher and higher, and Hoshi winced. He'd never been overly fussy, so this level of tears was something they were completely unprepared to deal with. And Hoshi themself hadn't exactly been allowed to cry, so they didn't know what was comforting and what wasn't. "I don' wan' you to go!"

"Uweh…" Hoshi sent a desperate glance back at Byakuran only to find him whistling as he picked his pen back up and resumed writing. Hoshi withheld an eye twitch. _You unhelpful little…!_

"Don' leaveeeeeee…! Waaaah!"

Panicked, Hoshi quickly babbled, "D-Don't cry…! How about this? I'll give you something so that whenever you look at it, you'll never forget me. It'll be like I'm with you all the time!"

Fuuta perked up considerably. "…Can I give you something too?"

Did it work? "Sure."

"I get to pick for both of us?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," he hiccuped one last time. "I'll give you it before you leave tomorrow!"

Hoshi sighed in relief.

"Whatever you want, Fuuta."

.㇩5.

The airport was a crowded, busy place. People pushed past each other, not bothering to mutter apologies as they hurried to catch their flights. Everyone was eager to head home on vacation, and the typical holiday rush brought out harried employees and irritable travelers. Hoshi had no idea how _zietta_ managed to slip them in through the metal detectors, because a pocketknife was still strapped to Hoshi's inner thigh and they were almost positive _zietta_ had a gun on her somewhere, but they figured they'd learn in due time.

"A scarf?"

Hoshi thumbed the soft fabric, drinking in the gift. It was a plain scarf, black with white stripes. Fuuta held a matching one, wrapping it around his neck. His was white with black stripes, and the picture Fuuta made seemed familiar to Hoshi.

Fuuta and a striped scarf…if only he had a giant book—

Navy eyes widened with realization. Fuuta de la Stella? Their little cousin was _Ranking Prince Fuuta_? Hoshi wanted to smack themself. Why didn't they notice sooner? Ugh, no, they knew why. It was because Hoshi didn't think Fuuta de la Stella would have Shooting Star Flames. It was a better explanation than "communication with the Ranking Planet", that was for sure.

"Thank you, Fuuta. I love it," Hoshi said as they wrapped the gift around their own neck. It warmed them up, and involuntarily, Hoshi snuggled into it, hiding a soft smile.

Fuuta beamed, sparkling with joy. "Really? Then, you have to wear it always, okay?"

"Okay."

Hoshi tentatively ruffled his hair, and Fuuta looked as if he would burst from pure happiness. A pang of worry hit them as they took in the innocent three-year old before them. Fuuta de la Stella had lived with years of being on the run, hadn't he? Would Hoshi's Fuuta face the same fate?

No, that wouldn't happen. It wasn't possible to go from living with powerful information brokers and assassins to being on the run. Not to mention, Fuuta was valuable to the Akashics. He had the same power as Hoshi. They wouldn't hurt him, right? Even if they did, Fuuta would still have Hoshi.

But Hoshi was going to be gone for a full year.

Hoshi gnawed on their lip, staring at Fuuta solemnly. He blinked up at them with wide eyes. "Hoshi-nii?"

"It's…nothing. I'm sorry, Fuuta. I'm not going to be here for your birthday, huh?"

"It's okay! You can be here next year! I can wait until we get to celebrate together!" _Nonno_ hid a cough behind his wrinkled hand. Hoshi frowned minutely, eyes lingering on him suspiciously before dismissing it. Catching motion from their prephiral vision, Hoshi inwardly grimaced as _zietta_ beckoned them over.

"I have to go now."

Noticeably dimming, Fuuta nodded sadly. "I'll miss you a lot, Hoshi-nii."

Hoshi's lips twitched upwards. "I'll miss you too. See you in a year, okay?" Reluctantly parting, Hoshi dragged their suitcase behind them, heading over to where _zietta_ waited with a hand rested on her hip.

"Yeah! Bye-bye!"

Fuuta waved with both hands, eyes tearing up. Hoshi burned the image into their mind as they waved back, and when they fell asleep waiting for the flight to take off, they dreamed of monochrome scarves and bright eyes.

.㇩5.

The wait for the airplane to reach their destination was uneventful, with very little words exchanged in between Hoshi and zietta. There had been one short conversation—

" _Zietta_ , aren't you bothered about not returning to Japan with Fuuta? He's your son, isn't he?"

"Well, I am a bit disappointed, but I respect _padre_ 's intentions. He must have had something in mind; otherwise, he would've let me do as I pleased. I trust him to keep Fuuta safe."

"…Won't your husband mind, then?"

"I've already informed him of this arrangement; he was reluctant but understanding."

"Okay then."

"You can call him _zietto_ when you meet him…or _oji-san_. I'm sure he'd be delighted with either. He's a very accepting man, Hoshi. You don't need to be so tense."

"...'kay."

—and then the two of them minded their own matters.

Surprisingly, Hoshi found that the quiet was one they were comfortable with. Though it wasn't enough to dispel Hoshi's nervous tension. They stared out of the window, unable to spot any stars in the sky. Pressing a palm against the cool class, Hoshi let their breath mist over the glass and watched it fade away as quickly as it had come. Japan...huh. They weren't entirely sure what to expect once they landed. Did the Japanese base operate the same way as the Italian one? If not, what would they have to expect? Everyone that had Akashic blood running through their veins had stayed in Italy, so who commanded and lead the Japanese base?

Hoshi took a deep breath, counted to four, and let it out slowly. There was no need to panic. It was only a visit to another country, it wasn't as if they were heading to a torture chamber or something.

Speaking of torture, who was going to take care of Hoshi's pain resistance training? _Zietta_? And who would be teaching Hoshi the basic curricular material? Were they going to learn under different tutors?

Another deep breath.

Sleep was a great solution to any type of problem. Had a bad day? Sleep. Have a stomach ache? Sleep. Messed up a project you've been working on for weeks? Sleep. You can hear your aunt about to murder an unruly servant? Sleep.

Yes, sleep was the universal panacea.

With that in mind, Hoshi closed their eyes and dozed off in a matter of minutes.

* * *

 **Heyya!**

 **School is starting tomorrow, I'm very sad...sighs. But on the bright side, my birthday is two days away! I'll be turning fifteen soon~**

 **I have a poll up on my bio. It's about the order of priority my other stories take! I haven't updated Sweet Dreams in forever, but my muse for that story is gone. However, if lots of you vote for it, I promise to try harder to come up with the next chapter!**

 **Point out any mistakes for me, will ya? Leave a review if you feel like it!**

 **Ciao!**


	8. T-Tauri Phase: Shimon

**_T-Tauri Phase_**

 **t-tauri**

 _noun—_

 _the prototype for a class of very young stars, still in the process of gravitational contraction._

* * *

A sigh.

"Japan…?"

Blue eyes narrowed in worry. Ryuusei tapped a finger rhythmically, trying to recall something long forgotten.

"There's something I'm missing…"

For the first time in ages, Ryuusei pushed off of the ground and began to pace. Flowers crumbled to dust each time a boot crushed them underfoot, and new blossoms sprung up from the soil after a heartbeat.

"Japan… Japan? What was in Japan?" Lost in thought, Ryuusei's eyes glazed over, completely focused on trying to _recall_. "Japan… Usari? No…Gio— …That can't be it either. Then, Co…zart…?"

Ryuusei's head shot up, connections forming faster than any thoughts could keep up with. " _Oh_ ," came the breathless realization.

Japan. Saiph. Husband. Child. Fuuta. Powers. Flames. Floating.

 _Earth Flames_?

"Shimon?"

.㇩5.

Immediately, Hoshi's metaphorical stomach dropped as they whipped through the air, plummeting down. Through the nausea, Hoshi vaguely wondered if something was wrong. They only entered their mindscape like this whenever Ryuusei couldn't be bothered to cut the process short.

A telling _whoosh_ indicated that Hoshi was through the rainclouds. Reflexively, they forced themself into a better landing position and landed harshly, crushing a few flowers and creating a plume of glitter. No pain. Frowning to themself, they straightened and searched for the familiar figure by the space-lake. Ah. There, at the shore as always— only instead of sitting, Ryuusei was pacing around, muttering incomprehensible things in a strange mix of Chinese and Japanese.

Hoshi's suspicions were correct, then. Not only did Ryuusei fail to soften Hoshi's fall, Hoshi wasn't even acknowledged the moment they landed. Something was wrong. But what?

"…Ryuusei?" They called out tentatively. Ryuusei jolted, as if startled. But that couldn't be right. Ryuusei was never startled. Dread began to pool in Hoshi's stomach. Something was very, _very_ wrong, and they didn't have a clue as to what it could be. Literally _nothing_ happened in here, even during the times Hoshi visited, so it had to be something on Hoshi's side of the world…but nothing particularly alarming had occurred in the past few days.

A vague feeling of guilt wormed its way into Hoshi's mind. The last meeting they'd had was the one before Hoshi learned they were going to Japan. By the end of it, Ryuusei seemed confident in Hoshi's Flame control, and told them that they'd be better off practicing in the outside world rather than their mindscape. Hoshi had left immediately, still ticked at the slight to _zia_. Was Ryuusei angry, then?

Ryuusei sighed heavily, running a hand through teal locks. "Sorry, Hoshi. I…something's been concerning me."

"What?" Hoshi padded over, unable to help the concerned look they directed at Ryuusei.

"It's…nothing major, but…Hoshi. You do remember when you first held Fuuta, yes?"

"Mhm."

"And…you how Fuuta made that cup float?"

"Yes?"

Ryuusei resumed pacing, anxiously muttering, "I didn't think anything of it at first, because your memories indicated that it was normal for him to be able to do that, but…after learning that you would be heading to Japan, it hit me. Hoshi, Shooting Star Flames aren't capable of making things float."

Hoshi blinked, astonished but still not getting the point. "What?"

Nodding, Ryuusei continued, "Shooting Star Flames aren't capable of anything other than analyzing things. I haven't used them in a very long time…two hundred years, to be exact, so it only struck me as odd at first, but now I'm _sure_ of it. If your Flames were capable of making things float, wouldn't the clip have levitated when your _nonno_ presented it to you?"

Well…now that they thought about it…

Hoshi examined Ryuusei's face. It seemed as if a conclusion had been drawn already. Why couldn't Ryuusei just _get to the point_ and tell them what was wrong?

"Ryuusei, what did you find out?"

Ryuusei hesitated, looking uncertain. Hoshi decided that the expression was too human for comfort. They didn't like it. Ryuusei was supposed to be an annoyingly cryptic, vaguely mysterious, unreachable being, someone that was omnipotent and constant and _unbreakable_ , not… _this_. This scared, fragile person. "I mean, it's not for sure, and I may only be reaching here, but—"

" _Yes_?"

"…Hoshi, who is Fuuta's father?"

.㇩5.

Hoshi wasn't sure what they were expecting of their _oji-san_ , but it definitely wasn't this.

"Aw, what a cutie!" The redheaded man beamed down at them, reaching out to ruffle their hair. Hoshi shied away, staring incredulously at the cheerful grin he sported. His strange eyes twinkled with affection even as he retracted his hand. His whole demeanor screamed _sunny_ and _oblivious_ , and although Hoshi knew better, it was hard not to believe it.

 _("Hoshi, who is Fuuta's father?")_

…So this person was…

 _(Shimon,_ Hoshi thought with half-lidded eyes, and they knew they were right. Geez, who knew that a minor side character from a shounen manga would turn out to have such complicated blood relations?)

Undeterred at the less than positive response, _oji-san_ gently removed Hoshi's luggage from their grasp and started for the airport's exit. _Zietta_ trailed behind them, quietly firing off rapid Italian into her cell phone. Listening in, Hoshi caught the words _power_ and _reputation_ and a name that was coming up more and more often— _Fuuta_. They narrowed their eyes in contemplation.

"Your name is Hoshi, right? It's a cute name. I've heard a lot about you."

Blinking, Hoshi's train of thought derailed. Registering the spoken words, they turned their thousand-yard stare onto their new uncle. "What did you hear? How did you get information on me?"

 _Oji-san_ huffed. He brushed off the sharp edge to Hoshi's words with an ease that told he was used to being prodded at with suspicion. Somehow, Hoshi got the impression that _zietta_ had a hand in that. "You're overthinking things. Relax; this is _Japan_ , not Italy in the middle of a change in a power structure that's been held for centuries. Not everyone is a threat." He paused to give Hoshi the stink-eye. " _What_ exactly did they teach you growing up? You're so tense; you'll never be able to pass as a civilian in a long-term mission."

Hoshi's brow furrowed. "I'm an assassin. I don't need the skills required for a long-term assignment."

"It never hurts to be prepared."

"That's right," _zietta's_ voice cut in smoothly. Hoshi glanced up at her, a minute frown splayed across their lips. "The wider a skillset you have, the better a criminal you'll be. You'll do well to pick up a few skills during your stay."

Hoshi considered it for a moment before accepting her angle. She was the one with more experience here, so there was no real reason to insist on opposing her. "I suppose so," they concluded aloud, for the sake of the other parties. _Zietta_ nodded in approval before wandering off to hail a taxi. Hoshi fell into step several paces behind her, leaving behind _oji-san_ , who scrambled to keep up as he handled the luggage.

"That was fast," he commented, taken aback. "What gives?"

Hoshi shot a droll look his way. Wasn't it obvious? " _Zietta_ is my superior, and therefore, I follow her will. If she says it's necessary, then I'll learn whatever I need to learn."

"…And…that's it? Even though you didn't want to just a second ago?" _Oji-san_ looked discomfited. Hoshi didn't understand why.

"Um…yeah? When have a child's choices ever mattered to you adults?"

 _Zietta_ intercepted once more, apparently sensing something in the conversation she didn't like. "Once we arrive at our destination, we'll be starting your classes." She paused mid-step to slant a thoughtful look at Hoshi. "The only things _nonno_ and _sorella_ are willing to teach you are how to kill and get away with it. Of course, you need to know more than that. You're only staying for a year, so during that time, you'll be learning various things."

"Like what?" Hoshi prompted, getting curious despite themself. _Zietta_ 's words did ring true, after all; other than their basic academics, all the things Hoshi was taught related to murder in some way.

 _Oji-san_ kept up with the conversation, seemingly content to sit at the sidelines and listen to his wife talk. His previous troubled expression was gone, replaced with a dopey-looking grin. Hoshi eyed him, not even bothering to hide it. Was this what love did to a person? If so, Hoshi would like to never experience it, please. It obviously dulled the senses— physical _and_ mental.

"Well… _hanakotoba_ , for one, is actually supremely useful."

Navy eyes narrowed in thought at the unfamiliar Japanese word. _Hana_ meant flower, and _kotoba_ meant word, but flower word didn't exactly make any sense. Flower language, maybe? "The language of flowers?"

"Yes. Very good, Hoshi. _Hanakotoba_ is useful for delivering and receiving hidden messages. It's a common method we use when contacting our informants."

Lighting up at the praise, Hoshi couldn't help but turn pink. Of course, they immediately remembered who they were in the presence of, but instead of _nonno_ 's usual glares of reprimand, _zietta_ simply smiled at them indulgently before continuing on.

"There's also pickpocketing; a useful skill to have when the client also wants to claim a possession. It's troubling to have to return to the dead body to steal it off of them, no?"

Yeah, definitely. The first few times, Hoshi had been spotted near the corpses. Although it was a while ago, they were pretty sure that rumors of a haunted doll were still floating around the streets of Sicily.

"Calligraphy is a neat little ability to have as well. Law enforcement won't be able to recognize your handwriting that way. Of course, printing things out is a much easier process, but there may be occasions where you'll have to handwrite something on the spot."

Like…when? Hoshi couldn't imagine a scenario where they'd have to do that.

Nodding along anyway, Hoshi's eyes darted to _zietta_ as a taxi pulled up in front of them. Wasn't it dangerous to talk about such subjects in front of a civilian? Still, _zietta_ continued to talk even as she slid into the leather seats, and _oji-san_ appeared unconcerned as he brought the luggage to the trunk of the van. So the driver was with them, then. Hoshi settled into the seat beside _zietta_ , wondering when any signals were exchanged. They hadn't seen any…tch, were they really that unobservant, or was _zietta_ just that skilled?

"American Sign Language can be used to talk in code; a surprising lack of Mafioso can understand it, so even if it is blatantly obvious you're hiding something, it should be fine. Hmm…what else…"

 _Oji-san_ plopped onto the seat beside Hoshi, cutting off the easiest escape route. They tried not to glower. "Voice manipulation and disguises," he suggested brightly, buckling himself in.

 _Zietta_ frowned contemplatively. "I thought that was a given."

"Just in case it needed to be said," he assured her, and Hoshi openly rolled their eyes. _Oji-san_ blinked down at them. "What's up?"

Hoshi opened their mouth to reply, visibly stopped themself, and closed their mouth. "Nothing," they muttered. _Just that you are disgustingly in sync with_ zietta _and I feel like I shouldn't be here. Also, I'm not stupid, so you don't need to coddle me like that._ "It's just that you know my name, but I don't know yours."

He stared for a moment before gaping in realization. "Ah! I didn't introduce myself, did I? Sorry, that was rude!" _Oji-san_ ran a hand through his hair, grimacing sheepishly. He leaned back in his seat and flashed a smile at Hoshi.

"Well, you can call me _oji-chan_ , but my name is Kozato Kisuke! Let's get along, okay, Hoshi- _chan_?"

"Alright." A pause. "Oji- _san_."

"Uwa, so cold…!"

Kozato… So Ryuusei was right after all…

.㇩5.

The Kozato residence was a Western-styled mansion.

In the middle of a tiny backwater town named Shimon _in Japan_ , the Kozato residence was a _Western-styled mansion_.

Hoshi felt their stress levels rise as their eyebrow twitched. This…was absurd. Hoshi didn't even have words. They stared up at the building before them with the deadest deadpan expression they'd ever worn before. _Zietta_ eyed Hoshi with obvious amusement as she swept by them and up to the foyer. On autopilot, they followed.

 _Oji-san_ kept pace, bending down to peer at Hoshi's face and raising an eyebrow. "So, what's your verdict?" He flashed a crooked smile, as if it wasn't already obvious.

"Stupid," Hoshi replied without a beat.

 _Oji-san_ stumbled.

.㇩5.

" _Okaeri, oji-chan_!"

Hoshi immediately ducked behind _zietta_ 's flowing skirt, startled. More kids? From where? Hoshi thought _zietta_ only had one kid!

They quickly backtracked. The voice had clearly said _oji-chan_ , meaning that _oji-san_ was their uncle as well. Reprimanding themself for the assumption ( _assumptions will get you killed, child_ ) Hoshi curled a fist into _zietta_ 's skirt. Did _oji-san_ have a sibling?

A red-headed blur collided with _oji-san_ , and he gave a merry laugh as he twirled the little girl around before setting her on her feet. Warily, Hoshi peeked out from behind _zietta_ 's legs. The girl had the same strange eyes as _oji-san_ — eyes that seemed like they had compasses in them. She wore a cherry clip that was almost swallowed up by her fluffy hair, and she seemed to be about Fuuta's age. Her attention was abruptly redirected at _zietta_ , and the girl giggled as she bounded up to her.

"Hi, _oba-chan_!"

"Hello, Mami- _chan_ ," _zietta_ replied warmly, reaching down to ruffle the girl's hair. Hoshi's hand twitched and they let go of her skirt. Tamping down on an irrational surge of jealousy, Hoshi took a deep breath before exhaling just as quietly, if albeit a bit shakily. _Nonno_ 's words rang in their ears. ( _You're an assassin, you don't need affection_.) Their expression, which had once shown mild distaste, was now carefully neutral. _Zietta_ continued, heedless of Hoshi's slip of control because they were out of her line of sight. "Where's Enma- _kun_?"

Hoshi felt the weight of a gaze on them, and immediately, their eyes snapped to the source of it. _Oji-san_ 's stare was unreadable as he crossed his arms, tapping his foot contemplatively. Hoshi wanted to bristle. He saw too much. ( _Get rid of witnesses._ )

"He's coming downstairs!" Wide ruby eyes blinked at Hoshi, finally noticing their presence. ( _A minute of inattention can be fatal—_ Relax; this is Japan _,_ not everyone is a threat _—_ ) "Who's that?"

 _Zietta_ hummed. "You don't remember? I mentioned it before, Mami-chan."

Mami adopted a thinking pose, lips jutting out in a pout. Hoshi was very suddenly reminded of how Fuuta did the same thing, and a pang of longing was swept away with all of the other things that would crack their mask.

You could pinpoint the exact moment Mami remembered something. She lit up like a beacon, and her loud exclamation almost hid the footsteps that pattered down what seemed to be carpeted stairs. "Oh! You're Hoshi- _niichan_! You're gonna stay with us for a year! I'm right, right?" She gave a little wiggle of excitement, practically bouncing in place. Where did she get that enthusiasm from…?

"Hoshi…?"

Hoshi tore their eyes away from Mami's vibrant form to land on a boy that seemed to be their age. His hair was as red as Mami's and his eyes were also the same. Was it a family trait? If so, why didn't Fuuta have eyes like that?

" _Onii-chan_!" Mami shot toward him like a bullet, tugging insistently on his arm. He stumbled as she dragged him to where Hoshi stood, still half-hidden behind _zietta_ , who was watching with an indulgent air about her. It…was kind of condescending, to be honest. But it was _zietta_ , so Hoshi would forgive her. "This is Hoshi- _nii_! The one that's gonna stay with us for a year!"

"Ah— eh— um, it's nice to meet you, I'm Kozato Enma! I like cats and I'm turning eight this year!"

And as the two siblings stood side by side, one grinning and the other smiling shyly, something clicked in Hoshi's mind. _Ah_ , they realized, oji-san _is the uncle of the survivor of the Shimon massacre._

This was _that_ Enma, the one that would live, and this was _that_ Mami, the one that would die, and because _only Enma would live_ that meant _oji-san_ was going to die too, and _holy shit_ would _zietta_ be a casualty as well? When did the massacre occur, anyways? It was supposed to be…seven (?) years prior to Enma's manga appearance, and Tsuna's age group was fifteen at that time, if Hoshi remembered correctly, and fifteen minus seven was…

"…My name is Akashic Hoshi. I'll be turning eight, too. Nice to meet you."

Ah, fuck.

The Flood of Blood incident was this year.

… _Ah, fuck_.

* * *

 **Aaaa sorry for the one month wait! School is actually getting kind of busy...my chem teacher is the WORST, GOD I hope he retires ASAP.**

 **Anyways, there were a lot of parentheses in this chapter...I wanted to make Hoshi seem like they're kind of...hmm, how to put it...like they're brainwashed or something. Conditioned. Yeah, that's it. It doesn't appear much in the other chapters, I think, so I think I'm only going to add these type of thoughts when Hoshi is agitated or thrown off.**

 **ALSO! The fact that Hoshi calmed down after they looked at Kisuke is important! Yeah!**

 **I'm not sure how many of you remember this, but when I put an author's note up for the rewrite, I said Hoshi would eventually identify as male. I'm taking that back now. I think Hoshi is fine the way they are. If you have complaints, sure, feel free to say so, but I'm not changing this decision. I really like Hoshi and the way I want them to develop.**

 **On another note, the second chapter of The Akashic Record is up! It's kinda dark, but it's short, so I don't think it's too bad.**

 **Leave a review and feel free to point out any mistakes!**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	9. Hiatus

**Yeah yeah it's me.**

 **This is an official update: WSF is on hiatus. I mean, it's kinda already been on hiatus, but now it's official.**

 **I have like 5 AP classes and hw keeps me busy already...this story will probably remain like this even after junior year, because senior year has apps and stuff (although I'll probably have more time) but rn it's impossible for me to try and manage this story when I can't even manage my grades (C stands for chem y'all! i'm crying on the kitchen floor rn).**

 **I do love this story, and Hoshi, and I do have ideas and motivation but I just have no time to write so this story has no choice but to be on hiatus...looking back, I shouldn't have tried to rewrite this story in sophmore year bc even though the writing was cringy I really enjoyed writing it and could produce a new chapter in like 30 mins lmao...but there's no point in being nostalgic right now!**

 **The next time this story updates, it'll be a real update, but that probably won't happen anytime soon.**

 **I hope I'll get to see you guys again one day! Thanks for bearing with me until now!**


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